


The Charlatan of Choice

by Skyleaf19



Series: The Weight of Both Worlds [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Changes to RWBY Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-07-29 20:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 284,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyleaf19/pseuds/Skyleaf19
Summary: The end is nigh. With three of four Relics in play, time runs short for America in more ways than one. Salem is on the move, and Ozpin insists they must retrieve the Relic of Choice before it’s too late. But as Amber’s past with Ozpin comes to light, America wonders if their trust might be misplaced...





	1. Flightless Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Some cursing. Violence and blood. Angst/hurt/comfort. Potential spoilers for RWBY. Major AU elements for RWBY in particular. 
> 
> Special note: This story was planned before Volume 5 and mostly written before Volume 6 of RWBY was released. With that in mind, any shocking revelations made in Volume 6 will not affect this story. As previously stated, this is AU for RWBY.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or Hetalia: Axis Powers.

" _Vale— my Kingdom— is dying. And you're dying with it_ _."_

Vale's words repeated in America's head, over and over and over again, yet they refused to click and become comprehensible. Instead he sat in a haze of blissful obliviousness and looked out the window of his hospital room, taking in the sprawling city landscape, lush green woods, and bright blue sky outside.

Before he comprehended what he was doing, he got out of bed and opened the door, looking down the hallway. Vale demanded what he was doing, but he did not answer, stepping out. A couple doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors bustled by, they they ignored him and he ignored them.

America's steps took him down some stairs and out the front door. No one tried to stop him. No one confronted him. He may as well be a ghost. Maybe he already was one. America wandered through the streets and although a couple people looked at him, none talked to him. They were lost in their own lives and had no time for the teen in a patient's garb that walked without knowing where he was headed.

Somehow he made it to the edge of town and stared at the wall separating him from the forest. He grasped a protruding brick and pulled himself upward, ignoring the stinging in his shoulders. He made it over and dropped to the other side. His knees buckled when he landed and he sat heavily in the dirt, looking at the forest.

America stood up and took a couple steps before collapsing against a tree trunk. The spot lay just within the treeline where no one should see him unless they looked carefully. He leaned his head against the tree and watched the branches sway in the wind. A couple leaves tore away from the branches and fluttered weakly to the ground. America picked one up and twirled it by the stem between his fingers. The green was vibrant, bright, and still full of life. But for how long?

 _How long?_  He finally asked.

He felt Vale's simmering rage jab at his mind. Unlike previous instances, he finally knew the reason for it. Helplessness and fear could easily turn into anger, especially when someone's few options included lashing out. And yet even with that anger— that  _terror_ —when Vale spoke, her voice was noticeably flat.  _"I can't say how long we have left. It could be decades, years, or weeks. All I know is Salem has successfully weakened us."_

America's throat grew so dry he could hardly swallow. Then _why did you say we're— We're—_

" _Dying?"_ Vale challenged.  _"Surely you are not so naive. Remnant nations aren't as durable as Earth ones. My_ _ **capital**_ _was attacked. My Academy is filled with Grimm, with more spawning by the hour thanks to that damn Dragon. More and more of my villages fall every day. Did you think that could happen and we'd just be_ _ **fine**_ _?"_

America released the leaf and watched it flutter to the forest floor.  _I don't understand._

" _Then let me spell it out for you."_  Vale said harshly. " _You're weakening because of the turmoil in Vale. If we'll lucky, you'll keep getting headaches, nosebleeds, and other pains. If we're unlucky, an attack will_ _ **kill us**_ _like the collapse of that mine killed Mantle."_

 _But Salem needs us alive,_  America thought faintly.

 _"Yes. **Alive**. Alive doesn't mean  **healthy**. We can be on the verge of death and she won't care as long as we have enough Aura to unlock the Relic of Choice." _ Vale gave a bitter laugh.  _"That's probably her intent. Why fight us when we can fight back?"_

America barely heard her response. He pressed his palms to his forehead and clutched at his hair, yanking it with his fingers.  _What do I do?_

" _Nothing."_ Vale hissed.  _"We're already dead."_

America shook his head violently.  _I don't believe that. There has to be something we can do—_

" _Denial doesn't suit you."_ Vale interrupted sourly.

 _It's not denial,_ America snapped, his numb confusion incinerated by anger.  _I'm just not giving up, unlike_ _ **you**_ _._

" _I haven't given up."_  Vale claimed.  _"I'm simply not delusional, unlike some people."_

 _As long as we're alive, there's hope,_  America stated.  _We— We're not that badly off—_

" _Yet."_  Vale snarled.

— _so we have time to figure this out_. He inhaled shakily.  _Vale isn't Mantle. The foundation is still strong. If we beat Salem and the Grimm we should be okay._

" _How are you so calm? Are you unrealistic or plain old_ _ **stupid**_ _?"_  Vale exploded. " _It's_ _ **over**_ _. It won't be long before you start choking on your own blood and collapse. Why can't you accept that_ _ **we're going to die?**_ _"_

 _Well, giving up and waiting to die won't change anything,_  America said. He recalled long silences and an unapproachable, shivering form hidden under too many blankets on a bed.  _You saw what Mattie did._ He felt the color drain from his face.  _I have to tell everyone._

" _What is the point?"_ Vale demanded, but shaky resignation blanched the anger from her voice.  _"They can't help."_

 _Maybe not, but we won't know until we try._  America gritted his teeth.  _Besides, you know how we felt when Mattie did not tell us._

" _...Fine."_ Vale said dully.  _"Do what you want."_

America could not decide whether he wanted to comfort her or scream at her to stop being so pessimistic. He silently curled up under the tree, laying his cheek against the scratchy bark. A shudder went through him and he pressed a hand over his eyes, blocking out the world. He did not realize he fell asleep until he opened his eyes to darkness.

Distant shouts wormed their way through his cotton-filled ears and he recognized his name. Apparently they noticed he was gone. Oops.

America fought off the irrational desire to hide and stayed where he was, closing his eyes again. He knew he should move but even that was too much effort at the moment. For now he just wanted to sleep. He drifted off again just as he heard Nora gasp and call his name, but made no attempt to stay awake. Despite his claims to Vale, he was not ready to tell his family. He was not prepared to see the grief-stricken looks on their faces.

XXXXXXX

When Ruby arrived next to Nora, she could only breath a sigh of relief. Alfred lay curled up under a tree, snuggled up against the bark despite the discomfort the rough surface must cause him and blissfully unaware of the panic he had caused.

After days of avoiding Uncle Qro— the hospital, Yang had finally convinced Ruby to visit. The sisters had been on their way to see their uncle, accompanied by Nora— who had dragged Ren out to visit Blake with the intention of physically pulling her out of Suns room— when Arthur tore through the hospital, shouting that Alfred was gone.

Naturally, everyone had feared the worst. The sisters, Arthur, Matthew, and a few others had immediately dropped everything to look for him, eventually getting directed to the woods by a local. Why said local had not asked the young man in hospital attire and with  _visible bandages_  if he was okay was beyond Ruby, but they had only searched a few minutes outside the town before Nora found him.

_Thank the Gods._

As the searchers gathered around the source of their worry, Arthur's furious glower melted into a softer, wearier look when he spotted his peacefully resting brother.

"Why is he out here?" Nora asked before Arthur could speak, more puzzled than upset.

Ruby shrugged uselessly.

"Bloody idiot." Arthur muttered.

Matthew put a hand on his arm as his violet eyes scanned their surroundings suspiciously. "We can ask what he was doing when he wakes up. Let's get him back."

Ruby subconsciously kept a hand on her weapon, eyeing the dark forest warily as Ivan scooped Alfred up without being asked. They hurried back to the closest entrance as the forest grew steadily darker, shadows devouring the light as they crept closer and closer to town. Two guards met them at the gate.

One man's eyes landed on Alfred and his posture loosened. "You found him. Is he okay?"

"Yes. Just asleep." Ruby explained as the other guard unlocked the gate.

The first guard nodded absently. "I'm glad you found him. The forest used to be great for camping but there are hordes of Grimm in there nowadays." His relieved smile faded. "A lot of people have gone in there lately."

Ruby's brow pinched but she did not ask him to elaborate. The guard held the gate open and waved them through. It clicked shut behind them and they returned to the hospital at the edge of town. None of the locals looked at them twice, though Ruby swore she heard a woman say "At least they found this one." Her steps slowed as she tried to find the source of the voice.

"Ruby! Come on." Yang called.

Ruby hurried after her sister and they entered the hospital. The entrance room was mostly empty, with only a few patients waiting for admittance. Although some clutched onto reddened cloths and others were drastically pale, none of them seemed to be too badly injured, and Ruby felt some of her nausea ease. She never liked hospitals. They smelled weird, and had this heavy aura hanging over them like the walls themselves drained the hope from people. That was why she did not want to come here.  _Not_  because of... other things.

The receptionist spotted Alfred and relaxed immensely. "Where did you find him?"

"The woods." Arthur said briefly.

Her expression clouded. "I see. I'll inform the doctor."

"I will accompany you." Arthur stated. "I would like to speak to him as well."

Ruby had a feeling the doctor was not going to enjoy that conversation. Arthur shot Ivan a warning glare and followed the receptionist away. Ivan, Matthew, Nora, and Ren went to return Alfred to his room, but Yang grabbed Ruby's arm before she could go with them.

"We still have time to visit Uncle Qrow." Yang reminded her.

Ruby's mouth went dry. She gulped roughly, feeling as if she was trying to swallow a rock. "Okay."

Yang's lips dipped and Ruby could practically see the Big Sister Instincts ringing alarms.

"Let's go." Ruby said before her sister could speak.

Yang frowned at her but led the way to their uncle's room. They had to press themselves against the wall as a gurney surrounded by hospital staff was rushed by, but it did little to delay them. Ruby resisted the urge to drag her feet, focusing on Yang's swinging hair as she walked briskly to the proper door. She knocked on the door once and shoved it open, sauntering through.

"Hey, Uncle Qrow! Your favorite niece has arrived."

"Really? I don't see her." Qrow said blandly, and Ruby froze outside the doorway.

Yang grabbed her arm and pulled her in, shutting the door and cutting off her path to escape. Ruby stared at her boots and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She slowly forced her gaze upward, peeking at her uncle for the first time he was awake. Qrow's skin was noticeably pale and his hair was unkempt, but Ruby had seen him looking worse after a couple of his worst drinking binges. His red eyes still sparkled with mischievous wit and Ruby relaxed, lips twitching into a smile. He… He was  _okay_.

Ruby threw herself across the room, hugging her uncle tightly.

Qrow caught her easily and chuckled, ruffling her hair. " _There's_  my favorite niece."

"Rude." Yang complained, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're looking better."

Ruby's cheeks flushed at the reminder that Yang had visited Qrow without her. But she was here now. She… she was fine. She was. She—

_The spear was stabbed clean through his body, its bloody tip clearly protruded from his abdomen. Ruby stared at the weapon and dripping blood, and slowly raised her gaze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing—_

Ruby blinked rapidly and shut her eye, forcing herself back into the present in time to hear Qrow's response. "I'm feeling better now that you're both here."

Ruby's cheeks reddened.

Yang punched Qrow's arm. "Softie." When Qrow chuckled, she jabbed him again.

Ruby smacked her hand away. " _Yang_."

"He started it." her older sister claimed. "And it is my solemn duty to tell him he's getting old, even when he's bedridden."

Ruby rolled her eye and caught Qrow staring at her, his smile slipping away. Her uncle gripped Yang's hand and cupped Ruby's cheek, fingers curling up next to her eye patch. He sighed, lowering his head, and before their eyes, some of the strength drained from his shoulders.

"Ruby, Yang…" he murmured. "You've grown so much since you were little brats clinging to my pant legs, begging for a piggy back ride."

Ruby spluttered.

Yang huffed. "Well, I'd  _hope_  we've grown since then." Her tone was lofty but she nibbled her lip in a way that betrayed her unease. "What's wrong, Uncle Qrow? Are you getting sentimental in your old age?"

"Maybe." Qrow said quietly. He gently ruffled Ruby's hair again. "You two were always an adorable little duo of demons. You always stuck together. You… You need to keep doing that, okay?"

A pit opened in Ruby's stomach. She and Yang exchanged an uncertain glance.

"Uncle Qrow?" Yang asked, all flippant teasing gone. "What's wrong?"

Qrow continued to pet Ruby's hair, and she noticed his hand was shaking. "You need to keep looking out for each other in the future… because I'm not going to be there to save you anymore."

A bucket of ice water fell over Ruby's head, chilling her to the bone.

Her uncle's gaze dropped and his hands fell to his lap. "The spear went through my spine. Messed a whole bunch of stuff up inside. I… I'm not walking again. Not until I get robotic replacements or something and even then it's… Well, the odds aren't with me. I… wanted to tell you both at the same time."

The girls stared at him uncomprehendingly. Ruby did not realize she was crying until Qrow brushed a tear away. Her eye snapped up to his. "I—"

_Everything except Ruby's arms, face, and eye were still cold, still numb, still frozen. She could not move. She could not dodge. So as she struggled to raise her arms she shut her eye and prayed her Aura could take it—_

"I—"

_The spear was stabbed clean through Qrow's body, its bloody tip clearly protruded from his abdomen. Ruby stared at the weapon and dripping blood, and slowly raised her gaze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing._

"I-I—"

_Red eyes closed, and his hand slipped from Ruby's head. He fell to his knees and Ruby lurched forward, catching him before he could slump completely to the ground. His weight fell heavily upon her but she did not let go, clutching at him. She felt something sticky and looked at her hand._

_Her palm was covered in crimson._

"I'm sorry." She jumped to her feet but Uncle Qrow grabbed her hand, keeping her from leaving. "I'm sorry. I'm  _sorry_. It's  _my fault_. You— You were hurt protecting  _me. I'm sorry._ " She halfheartedly tried to pull herself free, vision blurring with tears.

" _No_." Qrow said, refusing to let her go. "Don't say that. I'll never regret protecting you, Ruby.  _Never_ , you hear me?"

Ruby's face crumpled and he pulled her to his chest, holding her firmly. He held out an arm and Yang crawled into it like she sometimes did when she was younger and had a bad dream. Ruby waited for her sister to be embarrassed. Instead she was silent, and her eyes were puffy. Qrow petted their hair as they cried into his shoulders, looking past them.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." he said firmly.

"But you're  _not_." Yang said, voice choked.

"I'll live." Qrow claimed. "I'm just… going to be stuck here for a while."

It hit Ruby then that her uncle's part in their fight was over. With Atlas and its superior tech out of the picture, the options to fix his spine were extremely limited. Not only that but surgery and recovery could take years, and by then a side will have won. Even  _then_ , her uncle would likely never be a Huntsman again. Ruby looked at the blanket hiding his legs. They looked  _normal_  and  _fine_  and like  _nothing_  was wrong and… and…

She buried her face in his thin hospital gown, breath hitching with sobs. Qrow kissed her forehead, stubble scratching her skin. He did the same to Yang, holding them both close.

"I'm so proud of both of you." he said. "You're going to do great things."

"Stop being mushy. It's weird." Yang protested thickly.

Qrow's chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Then I'm doing it right."

His usual teasing failed to comfort Ruby. Why was  _he_  comforting  _her_  when he was the one who would never walk again? Again, her eye unwillingly went to his covered legs, then to Yang's arm, before she slowly reached up and touched her eye patch. She should be grateful that her family and friends were still alive. She should be happy they did not leave like her mom. Instead, a bitter fear gripped her heart, and Ruby wondered what or who they would lose next.

XXXXXXX

Canada watched carefully as Russia lay America back in his bed, fingers tingling with frost. His every cell shivered with icy energy, and he knew if Russia made one odd move that energy would explode into an attack Canada did not intend to release. He could not help it. His nerves were frayed, leftover panic prickling over his skin, as it had been ever since he and England entered America's room to find him gone. The doctor left his foolish twin alone for  _two seconds_  and America managed to pull a disappearing act on them.

Canada had honestly jumped to conclusions and feared the worst. Could anyone blame him? America attracted trouble like he had his own gravitational pull. Canada did not know why he walked into Grimm-filled woods and fallen asleep, but once he woke up, he was getting an earful. What was he  _thinking_?

Distant shouting reached his ears and Canada groaned internally, recognizing England's furious tones. Nora tipped her head and winced, while Russia shot him an amused look, lips twitching into a smile.

"I think you may want to go stop Arthur from causing a scene." he said pleasantly.

A stream of curses and threats came through the walls.

Canada sighed, rubbing the area between his eyebrows in a futile attempt to ward off a headache. "It's probably too late." He looked to Nora and Ren. "Could you stay with him?"

"Sure." Nora agreed easily. "We'll try to drag Blake out later."

Canada shot them a grateful smile before he exited the room, heading towards the source of the continuing string of curses. Some were quite colorful, and he hoped there were no children around to repeat them. He nearly ran into the doctor— Charon, if he was not mistaken, who looked noticeably more frazzled than he had a few hours ago— a nurse, and England. The nation's cheeks were red with anger, while his eyes burned like emerald flames. Thankfully, his staff was in its holster, otherwise Canada was certain that spells would be flying.

"Arthur, please calm down." Canada said, touching his brother's arm. "There's no need to shout."

"There bloody well  _is!_ " England snarled. He jabbed a finger at the nurse, who eyed him warily. "Tell this mad dog that she is  _not_  chaining Alfred to the bed."

Canada's spine stiffened and he turned to stare at the nurse. His fingers curled, but he did not reach for Maple Frost just yet. "Ma'am, could you please tell me why you wish to do that?" he requested in his most pleasant voice.

"It's protocol to restrain patients like him and keep them from wandering." the nurse said.

Canada shook his head, smile stiff on his face. "Ma'am, if you restrain my brother he'll panic when he wakes. Restraints aren't necessary. We can stay with him and keep him from leaving again."

The nurse's lips thinned. "We cannot risk leaving him to wander out again." She said in a tone of voice that suggested Canada was a small child who had trouble understanding the obvious. He tried not to let it rankle him. "Next time, it is unlikely he will be found, not to mention the risk of—"

"Nurse, I don't believe Alfred is a risk." Charon interrupted. "So how about we ask him why he left when he wakes, and  _then_  see if any measures need to be taken?"

If the nurse looked annoyed with Canada, she looked almost murderous when Charon spoke. Her gaze grew icy and her lip curled. "Very well,  _doctor_." She turned on her heel and stormed off.

Canada watched her go, eyebrows raised. He looked to Charon. "Thank you for stopping her."

"You're welcome." the doctor said.

"What got her knickers in a twist?" England muttered.

"You did yell at her." Canada pointed out.

England's gaze darkened. "You are perfectly aware how Alfred would respond yet  _she_  thought she knew better." He sent a glare in the direction of the nurse.

"It wasn't just you she was upset with." Charon interjected blandly. The Atlesian doctor ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "The staff here do not like me or my fellow medical officers. As far as they are concerned, we are outsiders interfering with their patient-base, on their turf."

"That's..." Canada could not think of anything nice to say so he elected not to say anything at all.

"Petty, pretentious, and imbecilic." England finished for him. "Many of them saw Alfred and  _none_  of them decided to stop him from leaving. Incompetent bastards."

Charon shot him a startled look and shook his head. "I cannot disagree. Regardless, on behalf of the medical professionals here I apologize for our negligence."

"You don't have anything to apologize for. We know how busy you are." Canada said sympathetically.

America was far from the only person hurt in Atlas, and as one of the few medical officers who could handle the dozens of cases that came in with the freed prisoners of the Transformation Institute, it was obvious the Atlesian doctor was running himself ragged trying to help them all. Canada suspected that many of the prisoners had trouble trusting anyone even close to being a medical practitioner, and Charon had to rely on the fragile trust he managed to personally build in order to help them. Trust that the doctors in this town did not have. Canada did not envy the man.

Charon nodded absently. "May I inquire how your two friends are doing?"

"Jett is fully recovered." Canada supplied easily. "Francis is... okay, but mending."

Charon acknowledged his update with a small smile that quickly faded. "And Lovino?"

"He's still unconscious as far as we know. We were on our way there before Alfred decided to pull a disappearing act." England growled.

"We think Lovino's Semblance might be what is keeping him asleep." Canada explained.

He and England had indeed intended to go to Romano and Italy to see if a Semblance was the cause of the southern Italian's coma-like state, but some sixth sense had made England return to America's room to find him missing. Canada really had to remember to scold America until his ears burned for that one. What was he  _thinking_?

Charon's face lit up. "A Semblance? I did not consider that possibility. I have another patient to check on, then I will go to him."

"Thank you." Canada said.

They went their separate ways and Canada had to force himself not to run to Romano's room. He opened the door without knocking and was unsurprising to see Italy in his usual chair. The Italian jumped and wiped at his eyes suspiciously.

"Arthur, Matthew. Is Alfred okay?" he asked.

"He woke up, ran off, and was found asleep again." England said, sitting heavily in a chair and dragging a hand down his face. "He ran into the bloody woods for some reason. I swear he did that intentionally to give me a heart attack. Brat is more trouble than he's worth."

"You don't mean that." Canada chided as he took another seat.

"Hmph." England grunted.

"Before he fell asleep, Alfred had an idea." Canada continued, looking to Italy. "He thinks Lovino might be unconscious due to his Semblance."

"His Semblance?" Italy questioned. He gripped Romano's hand tighter. "Big brother… was always a sleepyhead."

"Exactly." Canada encouraged. "So we just have to figure out how to wake him."

" _If_  it's his Semblance." England muttered.

Canada kicked him in the shin, shooting him a warning look. Couldn't he see Italy looked close to tears? His brother had been captured, and when they found him he was in a coma. All things considered, it was surprising Italy was holding up so far. The Italian sniffled, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

"But… But I've talked to big brother and he's still like  _this_." Italy's voice cracked and Canada hid a cringe. Suddenly, he was not so certain that Romano's state was due to a Semblance anymore. After all, what kind of Semblance would leave him so deeply unconscious that not even his litthe brother's pleas could wake him.

Unless...

"...Have you spoken to him in Italian?" Canada whispered.

Italy stared at him, eyes wide open. He lurched forward, clinging to his brother's hand as he leaned over to whisper in his ear. " _Fratello, per favore svegliati. Sono io, Feliciano. Sei al sicuro ora._   _Puoi svegliarti_."

Nothing happened. Italy's breath hitched audibly and Canada's heart sank. England hesitantly put a hand on the Italian's trembling shoulder and opened his mouth, but no words came out. He glanced helplessly at Canada, who struggled to keep his sorrow and guilt off his face. That could not be it. They had been so  _sure_  that Romano was under the influence of his own Semblance. Now they had shared that with Italy and given him false hope—

Italy gasped, looking at his hand. Canada followed his gaze to see Romano's fingers twitch, squeezing his younger brother's digits until their tan skin was white. Green-tinged hazel eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion until they settled on Italy.

"...Feli?" Romano mumbled.

Italy hugged his confused brother, blubbering in an undignified manner with large tears streaming down his face. Romano twitched but awkwardly flung an arm up and patted his little brother's shoulder. He looked over Italy's back at Canada, and his brow furrowed.

"Where am I? What happened?"

Canada's lips stretched into a smile. "That's a long story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to put this here (Oops) but we're back to weekly Friday updates for now.


	2. The Fog of Denial

Sunlight hit America's face, stabbing through his eyelids to rudely drag him back into the waking world. He groaned, reached for his pillow, and put it over his head, blocking out the offending brightness. Something to his right creaked and he jolted into a sitting position, lightning crackling at his fingertips. Canada froze with one arm hovering above the arm of his chair, the other hand planted on the thin metal as if he had just intended to rise.

America forced the lightning to fade and smiled sheepishly. "Hey, bro."

Canada's startled look softened… and instantly became a scowl. "What were you  _thinking_?" he hissed.

America blinked and recalled his impromptu journey into the woods. He laughed awkwardly, scratching his cheek. "I needed some fresh air?"

"You could have been taken by _Grimm._ " Canada snapped, not appeased.

America recoiled, smile growing strained. "I know. Sorry. I… I guess that was kinda reckless."

The anger faded from Canada's expression. He never was one to hold onto rage for very long. Before America could relax, the door opened and England walked in with two steaming cups in his hand.

"Are you happy, Matthew? I brought some of that vile swill you call 'coffee'—" He caught sight of America and scowled. "You bloody idiot! What were you  _thinking_?"

America winced. "I wasn't."

England handed the coffee roughly to Canada and turned on the bed-ridden twin. "Where is your  _common sense?_ How could you think tottering off to take a nap in the forest was a good idea? I wasn't aware that exposure to oxygen could strip you of your few remaining brain cells, you daft  _git_. That vile bitch may be dead and gone but Salem isn't. Did you learn  _nothing_  from the last time you decided to run off like a wandering toddler? You could have been abducted,  _again_. And don't you say you could have fought them off because we all bloody well know you can't, you incompetent  _idiot._ I'd swear you were doing it for attention if I didn't know you were an obsessed heroic-wannabee—"

America listened as England continued to rant, and while most of the insults bounced off, some cut deep. He stared past his brothers and at the wall, keeping himself absolutely still in order to minimize the risk of drawing more of England's ire. He knew no matter what he did, England would continue to berate him, but there were always ways to make it worse.

Interrupting, making it seem like he was not listening, moving in a particular way that made him seem submissive or standoffish. America had been on the receiving end of scalding lectures enough times to know he wanted to do everything in his power to shorten it. If he talked, he was yelled at. If he did not talk, he was yelled at. If he showed rebellion or  _apparent_  rebellion, occasionally objects would fly. It was best to try to find a balance of listening in and have no defiant or self-pitying reactions.

" _Well, doesn't that sound like a great relatio—"_

_Don't start,_  America warned Vale before she could finish. He quickly tuned back in to England's rant.

"—know better than to go running around like a suicidal idiot," England was saying. "But  _no_ , you always have to throw your brain in the rubbish bin and sprint headfirst into danger. I'm beginning to question if you  _have_  a brain to begin with. You just got away from your most recent capture and yet you decide going out  _alone_  is perfectly acceptable?" His green eyes narrowed to slits. " _Well_? Aren't you going to say anything?"

America silently shook his head.

That did not satisfy his older brother. "How can you be so  _stupid_?" he snapped. "Are you so arrogant and deluded you believe there is no chance they would find you, or do you bloody  _like_  being a captive?"

America flinched.

"Arthur." Canada said sharply. "Enough."

England shot him a glare and paused, looking back to America.

The younger nation kept his smile duly in place as his hands clasped so tightly in his lap he felt his bones creak. "Yeah, I just  _love_  being tortured and helpless." He said in a falsely pleasant tone. "I mean, I'm an 'attention-seeking idiot' so I  _must_  do it on purpose, right? Congratulations, you have me all figured out!" He was proud to say his voice did not crack, only seeping with anger.

England's eyes hardened. "I wouldn't be surprised—"

" _Enough_ , you two!" Canada shouted. "We just reunited and you already want to start  _arguing_?"

"I'm sorry." America apologized. He refrained from pointing out that he mostly sat there and let England insult and berate him, as usual.

" _Are you sure your brother loves you?"_  Vale questioned.

_Don't even._ America snapped.

" _I'm just saying that he insults you a lot."_  Vale pointed out.

_You mean just like_ _ **you**_ _do?_  America challenged.

That silenced her.

"Arthur? That was uncalled for. Apologize." Canada commanded, and  _uh oh_ , he still had that tone that made the recipient  _know_  they were in deep trouble.

England grimaced and his shoulders slumped. "I apologize." he said stiffly. His gaze caught America's and the harshness fled his gaze, leaving something vulnerable behind. "You  _scared_  us. We came back here and you were  _gone_."

America winced. "Sorry. I… I really needed some fresh air." He cleared his throat and glanced around awkwardly, yanking at the sleeve of his top. "Um. I found out… something. Bad. Something really bad. But not  _that_  bad." He rushed to say when Canada's skin blanched. "I just— uh. Did I tell you Vale is in my head?"

Green fire burned in England's eyes. " _What_."

America cringed and rushed to explain. "After I regained my memories, Vale woke up. She's just a voice in my head, but she's there. She can only talk to me. She can't take control or anything." Vale growled at the reminder. "And I still have her Semblance and…  _connections_  to her people and stuff."

Canada's eyebrows pinched together and he scrutinized his brother like he was trying to look into his mind and see that other soul. "What aren't you saying?" he asked carefully, like he feared the answer.

America could not look at him. Instead he stared at the sheet covering his legs, drawing designs in the rough fabric. "Um. You know what happened with you and Mantle?" He did not intend to say it like that, but apparently his brain to mouth filter decided that was a good time to turn off.

Canada turned a sickly white, his violet eyes standing out starkly against his ashen skin.

"...What?" England asked, fainter and less harsh this time.

"Vale's not doing so good. The Kingdom, I mean." America explained weakly. "The pains have gotten worse, and I've been getting nosebleeds and headaches for seemingly no reason." He chuckled weakly in the suffocating silence. "There's… a reason. I'm weakening because of Vale's status. I… I might be dying?"

His voice remained surprisingly steady as he told them. Perhaps it was that calmness that prevented England from understanding immediately, for the Brit simply stared at him with a completely lost expression. Canada had a similar look, but slowly his violet eyes filled with tears. They slipped silently down his cheeks as he looked at America with hopelessly bewildered eyes.

"No, Mattie." America gasped, distressed. "Don't cry."

Canada did not reply, continuing to stare as the tears kept flowing. America gathered his twin into a hug, hiding a wince as his bandages pressed against his wounds. Canada hiccuped but still did not speak, sitting in a mute stupor. The hitched sob pained America like a dagger to the chest and his own eyes began to burn.

"Don't cry, Mattie." he repeated. "It's not that bad yet. I just get nosebleeds, aches, and headaches. Nothing new. Like, its not debilitating or anything."

"Yet." England echoed. "It's not debilitating  _yet_. It's not killing you  _yet_. But if a tragedy occurs like the mine..." He trailed off and abruptly grabbed America's hand, squeezing it. "We'll  _fix_  this." he vowed.

America managed a tremulous smile. "How?"

England faltered. If the circumstances were different, America might be amused to see such an unprepared look on his older brother's face. Now, he barely noticed it, thinking about the future.

"If I die, Mattie will probably become my people's personification." he murmured. "I don't know what will happen to my country, but it may be possible that it will remain separate and not change at all." America nodded thoughtfully to himself. "You'll just be running two countries instead of one. You already know a good deal about my politics, and my boss likes you, so you should be—"

"Stop it." Canada said, releasing him and covering his ears.

America grimaced and gently pulled his twin's defensive hands away. "Mattie, we need to talk about this. If the worst happens I don't want you scrambling to figure things out."

"How long have you known?" England demanded.

"I found out after the doctor left. That's why I went into the woods." America said matter-of-factually, as if he were commenting on the nice weather. It  _was_  nice weather outside. Nice and sunny, without a cloud in sight.

England gaped at him incredulously. "And you're already thinking about what might happen if— if you—?" He could not say it.

"If I die?" America finished, still calm. "Yeah."

Canada' trembled visibly. "How can you be so  _calm_?" he croaked, voice hoarse.

America shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think it's hit me yet. Denial and all that." His tone was too casual. Even  _he_ noticed. Huh. Maybe his denial claim was not that far off.

" _Now you admit it."_  Vale muttered.

"Surely Salem understands that if you die, she can never get the Relic?" Canada said tightly.

"She likely knows that, yes." America said. "That's why she isn't tearing the City of Vale apart and is mostly focusing on Beacon." His head tipped thoughtfully. "She'll probably try to grab me when I'm too weakened to fight back."

Canada flinched. His reddened eyes widened and began leaking tears again. America's brow furrowed as he absently questioned the cause, before he felt a familiar stickiness on his upper lip. He wiped the blood away, only for England to grab his hand and shove a tissue into it.

"Thanks." America said, pressing it to his nose. "And thanks for looking for me in the woods. And for coming to rescue me. And helping me out when I had amnesia, and— a-and all those other times."

His voice cracked and his face crumpled. A lump formed in his throat and his breath became trapped behind it, choking him. He pressed a hand to his mouth, shoulders curling inward as his detached mask cracked, and a muffled sob made it past his palm. He jerked his hand down, gently pushing England's reaching arms away, and forced a smile back into place.

"It's going to be fine." he said. "It's not— It isn't that bad yet. Its not  _guaranteed_  that I'm going to die. It's just… kinda happening at a slow pace. So we have time to figure things out."

The words felt hollow as America repeated them again, and every claim held a fragile strain to it. He was one tap away from shattering like glass, but he could not break down like this. England and Canada were upset. He knew England would likely lock himself away and brood and Canada looked ready to cry at a moment's notice so it was up to America to be the solid rock that reassured them and remained cheerful. Heroes did not break down. They did not begin crying just because they found out they were probably going to die.

...Would England and Canada be okay without him? Would his people? What about others like Uni and Tony? What would they do? It slowly dawned on America that he was in a similar situation to when Ozpin told him he had to accept Vale's Aura. Maybe that was why he still managed to keep up a calm front and a semi-clear— if disassociating— head. Except this time, there was an even higher chance that death would be permanent.

"I wanted you to know this time." America said distantly. "I mean, I didn't tell you about Vale, and Mattie didn't tell us about… his stuff, and we saw how well that worked out, right?" He kept on smiling and liked to think it felt more natural.

England glared at him, eyes suspiciously bright. "Stop pretending you're fine with this, idiot." he snapped, the insult completely ruined by his thick tone.

"Oh, I'm not." America said. "I'll have a breakdown later, I'm sure."

He wrapped them both into an abrupt hug, nearly knocking their heads together, and laid his head on Mattie's shoulder. He wanted to say something else but nothing came to mind, and he ended up clinging to his brothers in suffocating silence. What were they thinking? What was he thinking? Nothing made sense, not even his own emotions.

"We're supposed to go to Canada." he blurted, and Mattie stared at him with round eyes. "When— When we get home. You spent so long in my country I thought we could go to yours."

Rather than make his twin smile, his words only brought him back to tears. As America held his sobbing brother, he was not sure why he ever thought saying that would make Canada happy in the first place. Perhaps even his thoughts were skewed as he failed to fully comprehend what might happen to him in the future. Even England was struggling not to let the tears in his eyes fall. Distantly, America knew why they cried, and yet, he could not understand it at all.

Deep down, he dreaded the day that he did.

XXXXXXX

Pyrrha watched the teapot tremble on the stove, accompanied by the sharp whistle of escaping steam. Having learned her lesson from a previous incident, she picked up a hot mitt and grabbed the rather cheap handle that happily conducted heat and resulted in a burned hand. She poured some of the hot water into a mug and placed a tea bag into it, watching it bob and darken the water. She pulled it around in an attempt to make it steep faster, despite knowing that probably did not do much.

As she waited, she glanced around the kitchenette, wondering if there was any honey. She quickly dismissed such a possibility and settled for a bit of milk in her tea. Luxuries were far from a guarantee at the moment. The condo-like apartment the group had found themselves in was on the cheaper side, but Pyrrha supposed they should be grateful they had housing and food at all.

The town of Frontier had been surprisingly open to housing the refugees from Atlas, but Pyrrha had a feeling that mostly warm welcome would soon become cold. The town was not a distant, small village, but a full, bustling city. They still did not have the means to infinitely support a couple hundred misplaced people.

Pyrrha sighed, and could only be thankful that a few leaders had appeared out of the refugees and begun trying to organize them. She was certain having an outsider or— even worse— one of the former Atlas military units that rescued them calling the shots would not have gone over well. Instead they found leaders in their own. Those few found the misplaced homes and jobs, ensured they had medical care, and were doing their best to integrate them into the new town without disrupting or angering the locals. It was not nearly as tense as it could be, and Pyrrha could only hope that peace would last.

She pulled the tea bag from the mug and paused before pouring the rest of the water into more mugs. She grabbed more tea bags and plopped them in, counting the number as she did so. There should be enough for everyone.

Ruby and Yang were visiting Qrow again, and Blake was with Sun. Feliciano and Kiku were with a recovered Romano, and Arthur and Matthew had gone to see Alfred. Francis and Jett were at a required checkup and Ivan had gone with them, either to provide support, make sure they did not vanish, or intimidate the doctors. Any of those options could be the case. Pyrrha was uncertain where Ren and Nora were, though Jaune had gone to help Sterlyn unload some supplies the pilot had gotten from… somewhere. None of them asked, and Sterlyn did not share. Ozpin was doing something with the Relic in his room. That left her, Weiss, Winter, Whitley, and Klein in their temporary home. Well… them and Penny.

Pyrrha's stomach twisted. The robotic girl was still deactivated. She could not say whether she was worried… or relieved. Penny  _appeared_  to be reconsidering the apparent programming that urged her to murder Pyrrha on sight, but Artificial Intelligences's were tricky, and Pyrrha still was not certain if this Penny was anywhere close to the Penny she kill— knew. She was not the only one who was terrified of finding out, if Ruby's nervousness around this Penny's still frame were of any indication.

Pyrrha pushed away those thoughts and put the mugs on a tray, heading to Weiss and her sibling's room. She passed Klein in the hallway and found him dusting a couple lamps. He smiled at her, gaze dropping to the tray.

"Would you like some tea?" Pyrrha offered. "I know you usually make it..."

Klein chuckled and set down the duster, taking a cup. "Indeed. This is a nice change of pace. Thank you, Ms. Nikos."

Pyrrha nodded and continued on her way to the Schnee's room. She balanced the tray on one hand and knocked. There was a creak inside before the door opened, revealing Weiss. She looked as put-together and calm as ever, but Pyrrha noticed the slight limpness to her hair, as if she had not spent her usual amount of time on it. The champion did not comment, instead showing her the tray.

"Tea?"

Weiss nodded and took a mug. "Thank you." she looked over her shoulder. "Do either of you want any?"

"I would love some." Whitley said, appearing next to his sister.

He took a cup and tasted a sip, head tipping thoughtfully. He made no comment, but something in his expression made Pyrrha wonder if he ever had plain black tea before. The Schnees were likely used to more extravagant and expensive beverages. Whitley had no complaints, however, and brought the mug to the desk, setting it beside a stack of papers and sitting down. Spotting the dark smudges of words and possible diagrams on the pages, Pyrrha's curiosity got the better of her.

"What are you doing there?" she asked.

"Trying to predict the market." Whitley said primly. "So far our accounts have not been frozen, but with Atlas in its current perilous state, that may change at any moment especially considering..." A smooth mask fell over his features and he did not finish the sentence. "The supply of SDC products is now unreliable so we cannot count on it. We will need a reliable source of income in the near-future."

Pyrrha stared at him, trying to make his age fit with the words coming out of his mouth. Then she recalled who their father was and realized that Whitley's money-orientated mindset was not so unbelievable. He did bring up a good point. Funds may be a problem soon.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked uncertainly.

"The populace is willing to pay you to exterminate Grimm if you know who to ask." Whitley said, nose wrinkling slightly. His eyes flicked to his sisters. "I'd rather you not."

Pyrrha must have missed something, because Weiss wrapped an arm around her brother's shoulders. "We'll be fine." she heard the former heiress whisper, and Whitley's expression grew pinched.

"I suppose hunting Grimm will have to do for now, though I do not know how long we will remain here." Winter said.

Pyrrha glanced at her, feeling awkward around Weiss's stern older sister. Winter was… a  _bit_  intimidating and standoffish. She always stared at people in a way that made it seem like she was attempting to see the thoughts in their minds, and always with a varying hint of apparent annoyance or disapproval. Pyrrha could not dislike or mistrust her, however. Not after she heard what the Specialist had done for Alfred. The Schnee siblings' cold exteriors hiding kinder cores seemed to be a common trait.

"I shall attempt to create a network to utilize for a more stable future." Whitley decided. "It is possible I may be able to put investments in certain areas and build from there." He frowned. "Things will be 'rough' as some say. Not just for us, but everyone. The SDC supplied more than Dust. Things like toothpaste, soda, and other products will soon be unavailable."

"Surely the SDC didn't have that much influence? The borders have been closed for months." Pyrrha blurted. Her cheeks reddened when three sets of icy blue eyes stared at her.

"It is true that trade was forbidden, but the SDC has companies outside of Atlas." Whitley said. "I am certain  _he_  had ways to ensure his business continued to prosper out of the Kingdom. I do not want to rely on those facilities for anything."

"We know." Weiss said warmly, and Pyrrha never felt like more like an intruder.

Before she could flee and leave the family to their private conversation, Winter spoke. "Have there been any updates on Alfred?"

"He was awake last I heard." Pyrrha informed her. She hesitated. "You can go see him, if you wish."

Winter shook her head. "I would like to visit, but family and closer friends should be allowed time first."

Pyrrha looked to Weiss uncertainly, but the former heiress's eyes were distant. The champion's gaze returned to Winter. "I know Arthur and Matthew have been busy, so I'll say thank you for helping him in their stead."

"Anyone would have." Winter sniffed. "He looked..." Her eyes glazed and her lips thinned. "… absolutely terrible."

The tension in her jaw showed the real meaning behind her words, and they were not the insult they may appear to be at first. Weiss and Pyrrha exchanged a look.

Whitley asked what they dare not to. "What do you—?"

"You may ask him eventually." Winter interrupted. "It is not my story to tell." She set her empty mug down and went to the door. "I'm going to scout those Grimm missions you spoke of. I shall return later."

With that, she left the three alone.

XXXXXXX

"Guess who's here!" Australia called as he waltzed through the door.

Everyone looked up mid-bite from dinner, complete with a piece of fish sticking out of Blake's mouth. America smiled and waved while Romano crossed his arms with an annoyed huff. Italy hovered at his brother's side while England and Canada did the same to America. It was a little uncomfortable, having his brothers flitting around him like fretting bees, but America was just grateful they were not acting like he was on his death bed. Because he was  _not_.

Yet.

America self-consciously adjusted his new black coat that hopefully hid the bandages still around his upper torso and shoved those thoughts and the feelings that accompanied them away. He planted his feet, bracing himself. Right on cue, Ruby squealed and launched herself at him, smacking into him at high speeds. America repressed a flinch but barely winced, secretly glad that Vale was not causing him stomach pains today.

_Stop thinking about it,_  he ordered himself and smiled at Ruby.

She beamed back. "Hi."

"Hi." he replied.

She hugged him tightly— He did his best not to flinch.— and America noticed she was a little taller than when he had last seen her. "I'm sorry we didn't visit you. We were with Uncle Qrow. The hospital staff kept glaring at us like we weren't allowed to see more than one person."

America hid a wince. Canada had told him about the Huntsman's injuries. Even after she died, Atlas still managed to permanently screw someone over. He risked a glance at Yang and noticed she was staring intently at her food, not even glancing his way. Did she blame him for her uncle's paralysis? His stomach twisted.

"You know, I don't think they liked us very much." Australia mentioned thoughtfully.

"Did you guys cause chaos when I wasn't there?" Nora gasped, dramatically putting an offended hand to her chest. "How could you?"

"We didn't do anything!" Australia protested.

" _Of course_  you did not. I believe you." Nora teased.

America let Ruby drag him into the room and shove him into a wooden chair at the table. Ren set a plate of pasta in front of him and he nodded in thanks. He noted a few unfamiliar faces among the group and raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to the new faces?" he requested.

"O-Of course!" Ruby stammered, flustered. "Alfred, Lovino, this is Whitley Schnee, Klein, and Oscar Pine."

America blinked in surprise but smiled and gave a polite "Hello."

He took special note of the quiet brown-haired boy sitting in the corner. So that was the kid Ozpin's soul attached to, huh? Huh. He was younger than America expected. The nation wondered how he was coping. He woke up one day with another voice in his head. That had to be a shock. America could relate.

Vale scoffed.  _"Don't be a brat. At least I can't take over your body by force."_

America barely kept his posture from stiffening _. Ozpin can_ _ **control him through force?**_

Vale winced, but her presence simmered with anger. America's chest smoldered with a similar rage but he kept his smile in place. None of this was the kid's fault. He just happened to have Ozpin the Shady in his head. America was not about to be rude to him because Ozpin screwed him over and turned out to be a lot more involved with Salem then America had previously been aware of.

"Al?" Canada called.

America blinked and noticed everyone was at the table and staring at him. He hadn't sparked, had he?

"Are you okay?" Canada asked worriedly.

America nodded and picked up his fork, twirling some pasta. "Yeah, just thinking."

"You can think?" Romano asked scathingly.

He glared at his pasta like it was pure evil, and America realized it was a boxed brand; the Italians' nemesis. He cracked a smile as Yang snorted into her meal. America caught her eye and she ducked her head, picking at her plate. It was then America saw her prosthetic arm. When had  _that_  happened? He did not ask and turned back to his own pasta, listening as Australia and Nora got into an argument on whether it would be possible to ride a Goliath into battle or if it would be too slow.

America could feel eyes on him and a sidelong glance was enough to show it was Oscar. The kid's hazel irises were distant and America had to wonder what Ozpin was telling him about his fellow double-souled ally.

Vale scoffed.  _"Lies, I bet."_

America frowned at his pasta.  _What do you mean?_

" _Ozpin tends not to tell the truth until its convenient or too late."_ Vale warned him.  _"Don't take his words at face value. Ever."_

_I thought you trusted Ozpin._  America thought, shocked.

Vale snorted.  _"Of course no—"_ She grunted as if she had bitten her tongue.  _"I-If I trusted him, why would I always be traveling? Why would I have a bad-luck magnet of a stalker without me knowing it?"_

America ate a bite of pasta, chewing.  _We need to talk later._

" _Don't bother. I ca— I'm not giving any answers."_  Vale said coolly.  _"And before you ask, no. I don't know Ozpin's past or why he has issues with Salem. He never told anyone."_

_Noted. Thank you._

America finished his meal, letting the others talk. More eyes joined Oscar's curious stares, with some likely mulling over his silence. It was almost funny. They used to beg him to shut up and now they were worried because he was keeping quiet.

"Alfred?" He gave his full attention to Weiss, who stared at him with eyebrows raised. "How are all of you out of the hospital already?"

America snorted. "I haven't seen you in how long and that's the first thing you say to me?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Sorry I hurt your fragile feelings."

America smirked. "Apology accepted."

Weiss sighed.

"We all have clean bills of health." France claimed in response to her earlier question.

"More like the hospital needed the room." England huffed.

Blake frowned. "Was there an accident?"

"Don't know." England grunted. "It's more likely they realized half their patients couldn't pay them so they kicked out the people that are 'healthy enough'."

"They wouldn't do that." Ruby denied.

"Romano and I have to go back for checkups." America interjected, changing the subject before England could start an argument.

"I don't see why. You look perfectly healthy." Whitley said. He paused, uncertainty crossing his features, and glanced nervously at his sisters. Was he worried that he offended them? How much did the kid know about nations and Relics anyway?

Before America could try to ask, Australia laughed and flexed a limb. "You  _bet_  we're healthy. I have to say, this Aura stuff is ace." He gave the white-haired boy a wide grin.

_He doesn't know_ , America discerned.  _I thought as much._

Whitley relaxed and tentatively smiled back at Australia. He set his fork down with a clink and rose from the table, glancing at Klein's empty dish. "May Klein and I be excused? We were working on something when you called us for dinner."

"Go right ahead." Winter said, and Weiss murmured in assent.

Whitley nodded and he and Klein left the table, entering what America guessed was likely the Schnees room. The door shut with a click and America glanced around the table at the other empty plates. No one else made a move to leave, however.

England sighed, breaking the silence. "I suppose we need to talk about what happens next."

"We nab the Relic of Choice, save Beacon, and kick Salem's ass!" Nora proclaimed.

"Nora, not so loud." Ren hissed.

She smiled brightly, unrepentant. A ripple of green energy flared over Oscar's skin and Vale snarled in America's mind, almost distracting him from how the boy's eyes glowed gold. His posture shifted, growing more confident and at ease, and America did not need to be told that Ozpin was in control.

" _ **Bastard**_ _."_  Vale snarled, making America jump.

Ozpin chuckled. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Ms. Valkyrie, it may not be that simple. Salem will be desperate to keep us from getting Choice."

It was strange to hear Ozpin's accent coming from the kid, but America appeared to be the only one who was unsettled by the change. Everyone else was looking at Ozpin attentively. Was America simply unused to Ozpin's…  _situation_ , or was it Vale's anger that made him wary?

"Why?" Ruby asked. "I mean… we'd each have two so I guess that would even the odds..."

"That is not Salem's concern." Ozpin interrupted. "The Relic of Choice is… Well, it could be considered the most powerful and dangerous Relic of them all."

"Even more than the Relics of Destruction or Creation?" Blake questioned.

America glanced at the burning torch-like paintbrush in the holster on Ren's back and forced his gaze away. The Relic only reminded him of Atlas's symbol, and Atlas only reminded him of things he wanted to put behind him. He was secretly glad no one expected him to carry the Relic of Creation for some symbolic reason. He wanted nothing to do with it.

Ozpin nodded. "Yes. Choice is the most dangerous because it is the most  _versatile_  Relic."

"What do you mean?" England asked sharply.

Ozpin looked at America, his ancient eyes looking out of place on Oscar's young face. "There is a reason Salem targeted Vale first. With Choice, she can not only make powerful, world-altering decisions, but also  _take_  choices from her targets."

They all stared at him blankly, unable to comprehend what he meant.

Japan understood first. "Are you saying that the Relic of Choice can  _control people_?" he asked, normally stoic tone taut with alarm.

"Yes." Ozpin said. "As I said, Choice is the most versatile of the Relics. It can allow the user to see all their possible choices in a situation… but it can also take away free will. If its user has an open mind about what 'choices' entail, anything is possible." He looked into his coffee. "With choice alone, Salem cannot strip everyone of their free will, but she could have targeted the other nations and removed their 'choice' to protect their Relics. In other words, she could have made them bring their Relics right to her."

That was news to America. And apparently it was news to Vale, for her shock reverberated through his mind. Everyone stared at Ozpin with varying degrees of disgust or horror as they realized the huge bullet they had managed to dodge. America's skin crawled and he rubbed at his arms, shivering.

"Luckily, we prevented that outcome. All thanks to you, Alfred." Ozpin smiled at America, who stared back numbly.

" _Of_ _ **course**_ _he only tells us about the danger now."_  Vale groused.

_You didn't know?_ America asked.

" _ **No**_ _."_ Vale snapped, irritated with his questions. _"He never told us what Choice was fully capable of. Or any of the Relics for that matter. He used—"_ She winced. _"He just had us lock them in their Vaults and leave them."_

"Okay." Ruby said shakily. She cleared her throat. "So now that we know that, what do we do?" When they shot her odd looks, she elaborated. "Salem is going after Alfred and the Relic of Creation. Should… Should we split up so if one group is attacked the other is far away from them?" The look on her face suggested that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"That won't help if they get Alfred and Choice first. Salem could make us hand over Creation anyway." Weiss pointed out.

Japan also shook his head. "If I may offer my opinion, splitting up our forces is not a good idea regardless. Our numbers are few as it is and our enemies are many."

"We'll need to use stealth over force." Blake thought out loud.

"There aren't any secret tunnels that lead to the Vault in Beacon, are there?" Jaune asked hopefully.

Ozpin shook his head. "I'm afraid we must go through the Academy to reach the Vault."

"We must  _travel_  there first." Italy mentioned, skin pale as he considered what was between them and their destination.

"Hopefully Sterlyn can get us close." Weiss added.

"Why don't we use the big Atlas ship to get there?" Italy asked.

"They will not help us." Ozpin said solemnly. "They have their own priorities."

" _More like he doesn't trust them not to take the Relic for themselves. For an advocate of working together he sure likes to keep people out of the fight."_ Vale muttered.  _"Hypocrite."_

America could not disagree. A thought struck him. "Hey, why didn't you retrieve the Relics sooner if they're so powerful? You had all of them to put them in the schools. Why not use them to beat Salem?"

"I'm afraid that story is for another time." Ozpin said and America nearly growled with Vale. He tipped his head, and America could almost imagine him looking over glasses that were no longer there. "Just know that you cannot simply point the Relics at Salem in order to destroy her."

" _He's hiding something."_  Vale commented.

_No,_ _ **really**_ _?_ America thought sarcastically. _I didn't notice._

Canada coughed into his palm before crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "Before we move on, there's something all of you need to know."

Everyone looked his way before following his gaze to America. He tensed and mentally cursed his twin.  _Are you_ _ **kidding**_ _me? I planned on telling them eventually but_ _ **not**_ _tonight. What the_ _ **hell**_ _, Mattie?_ They still stared at him expectantly so he quickly planted on a smile. "Um." he laughed awkwardly. "Sorry to kill the mood but..."

America told them about Vale, keeping the explanation short and clipped. Detached. Professional. As if it had nothing to do with him and he was not slowly  _dying_. It was surprisingly easy, and he supposed he still had not gotten out of the denial stage yet. How nice. Confused faces became horrified and teary and America wished he had Italy's Semblance so he could sink into the floor.

Pyrrha stood abruptly and rushed over, pulling him into a bone-crushing embrace. "We're going to fix this." She said firmly and looked to England. "What about that ritual you used for Mantle—"

England was already shaking his head. "I cannot use it again for  _at least_  another thousand years. Alfred does not have that time."

Canada slumped in his seat. America kicked him under the table and glared until he stopped looking guilty.

Pyrrha grimaced but looked to Ozpin next. "What about the Relic of Creation? What if we use it to create a body for Vale and separate them?"

In America's mind, Vale gasped softly, perking up.

Ozpin shook his head before America could hope. "I'm afraid that is not possible at this time. In order to use the Relic of Creation without risk, you must utilize the Relic of Knowledge as well. Otherwise the results can be catastrophic." His eyes darkened. "That being said, even transferring Vale to a new body might not stop her from dying."

A heavy, miserable atmosphere fell over them.

America hated it. "Hey, don't be like that." he commanded. "I'm not on my deathbed yet, so quit acting like you're at a funeral." They stared at him miserably and he bared his teeth. "You know what? Keep it up and I'll kick  _all_  your asses."

"Is that a challenge?" Nora asked, perking up.

"Yes." America said.

" _No_." Ren groaned.

Nora pouted and Ruby giggled. The mood lightened and America breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alfred?" He glanced at Winter. "I know you have just returned but could you take a look at Penny? She is still deactivated after—" The Specialist paused. "She is still deactivated."

Pyrrha winced. Jaune put his arm around her and kissed her temple, whispering softly in her ear.

"Sure." America said, rising from the table. "I'll do that now."

Honestly, he'd do anything to avoid the inevitable talks with his friends and fellow nations. He did not want to deal with that yet. Or at all.  _Ever_. Winter pointed him in the right direction and he dropped his dishes into the sink on the way out.

"Don't get lost!" Russia called after him.

America turned around and stuck his tongue out, making Russia cackle, and headed into one of the bedrooms. In the near-darkness, he could barely make out the form of Penny as she lay on a bed with a purple comforter on top of her. America wondered who put the blanket over the robotic girl and guessed it was probably Ruby.

He paused in the doorway and turned on a light, breathing a sigh of relief as the room was brightly illuminated. Seeing Penny laying in the dark brought back memories of the basement and America did not want to think about that right now. Penny's face was set in a peacefully serene expression, just like back then, and America repressed a shudder. He approached the bed and gently touched Penny's forehead with his forefinger. He immediately pulled his hand away, sighing.

"Give it up, Penny. I know you're awake."

There was a pregnant pause.

Then green eyes flicked open.

XXXXXXX

As soon as America walked out, Canada allowed his face to crumple. He put his hand to his head and gripped his hair, releasing a shuddering sigh. The conversations around him did not cease, and for that he was grateful. He could not bear being comforted at the moment. Yet someone tried anyway.

France squeezed his shoulder consolingly but did not speak. Now was not the time and here was not the place. Canada held himself together and looked to his former colonizer as Romano began arguing with Italy on whether the pasta sauce they used was acceptable.

"How are you  _really_  doing?" Canada asked lowly.

"I am better than I was." France admitted. "But I am still..." He paused, staring at an empty corner. "...recovering. I did not want to stay at the hospital longer than I had to." His eyes glazed. "It smelled."

Canada had an idea what 'smell' he spoke of. That was not comforting in the slightest. Atlas  _tortured_  France and tried to brainwash him and Australia. Sure, they were tough and neither showed signs of being under Atlas's propagandist thrall, but the  _point_  of such tactics was to be unnoticeable. Seeing the doubt in France's eyes, Canada knew he feared that possibility too. Despite this and the slight trembling in his limbs, France patted his hand, putting Canada's pain over his own.

"Do not worry about me. You have enough concerns already." he said softly.

Canada shook his head. "If I don't worry about you, who will?"

France's posture shifted and he made a show of thinking about it, tapping his chin. "Arthur."

"What was that?" England snapped.

France smiled disarmingly. "We were just discussing who was the worst cook among us. I do not think it is a contest. You are the clear winner."

" _You_ —"

England lunged for him and they got into a scuffle, rolling on the floor. Canada looked skyward for patience and silently apologized to the people in the apartment below them. Ruby giggled. Winter watched the fight with a slightly stunned expression, eyebrow raised.

"Are they not hundreds or thousands of years old?" she asked slowly.

Weiss shrugged. "Yes, they're old. That does not mean they're  _mature_."

Watching England yank France's hair and pull him into a headlock, Canada had to agree.

XXXXXXX

Green eyes met mismatched blue-and-green and America waited patiently for Penny to speak. She remained laying down under the comforter, turning only her head towards him and keeping it at that unnatural angle. She looked away first and rotated her head back into its previous position.

"How did you know I was active?" she asked.

"Technopath, remember?" America said dryly.

"That memory is in my data-banks." Penny confirmed.

"How long have you been awake?" America asked.

"Approximately 125.56 hours." Penny said.

America decided to cut to the chase. "Why did you pretend to be deactivated for so long?" Penny turned her head away from him. After the silence stretched on, America sighed. "You don't have to tell me."

"I want to." Penny said abruptly. "But I… cannot discern my reasoning myself. My reasoning is… illogical." She sat up, still looking away, and America noticed a mirror on the wall. He saw her emotionless expression reflected in the glass as she slowly reached up, touching her face. "Am I Penny Polendina?"

America's breath hitched. He kept his emotions off his face and studied her carefully. "What do you think?"

"...No." Penny whispered. "I am not Penny Polendina. Penny Polendina had Aura. Penny Polendina was Doctor Polendina's daughter. Penny Polendina was friends with Ruby Rose. When Ruby Rose spoke to me of time spent together, I have those memories in my data-banks. But Ruby Rose spoke of the time spent together participating in 'fun' activities such as 'chatting', 'game playing' and 'sleepovers'. When she recalled them, she spoke with 'happiness'. When I recall them, I feel  _nothing_. There is no emotion. There is no happiness to be hanging out with Ruby Rose. There is no  _care for her_. I recognize her face from my memories but there is no emotional attachment. She is a person I have data files on, but do not know or cherish. Ruby Rose talked to me. But… not  _me_. Ruby Rose talked to the  _other_  Penny. I… am not that Penny Polendina."She reached up and touched her ahoge before abruptly pressing it down. It bounced back up stubbornly and she blinked. Penny pressed a hand to her chest. "The tightness in my chest cavity has returned."

"You're sad." America explained softly. He sat on the bed next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I know what its like to have the face of someone and not  _be_  them. When I had amnesia, I was a mix of America and Vale. The differences were… very noticeable, and I often felt guilty for not being who my family and friends expected… or  _wanted_." He closed his eyes. "In the end, I returned to being America, but your situation is different than mine. You are  _you_ , and she was her. That being said, you  _don't_  have to try to be someone you're not, okay?"

Penny turned over and looked at him. "But am I Penny?"

" _Yes_." America said firmly. "You are  _Penny_ , my friend who helped rescue me in the mines, stayed at my side all this time, cooked dinner with me, is badass, and likes mashed potatoes."

Penny frowned uncertainly. "They miss the other Penny. My face is causing them distress."

America sighed. "Yeah. But that's on  _them_. Don't try to be something you're not for their sake. It'll only hurt in the long run."

" _Speaking from experience?"_  Vale asked rhetorically.

America cringed.  _Oh, yeah._ An idea struck him. "Humans tend to have trouble with this kind of thing, so how about you do something to help differentiate yourself from her?" At Penny's hesitant nod, he continued. "Here's an idea: You and Penny Polendina were both created by Doctor Polendina, so technically you could be sisters."

"'Sisters'." Penny echoed. "Definition of 'sister': 'a female who has one or both parents in common with another.' Alternate definition: 'a girl or woman regarded as a comrade'. For male counterpart see 'brother'." She paused. "Definition of 'brother': 'a male who has the same parents as another or one parent in common with another.' Alternate definition: 'a boy or man regarded as a comrade'..."

She stared at America, blinking twice as her lips dipped into a frown. Her eyes glazed, and America guessed she was thinking— er, accessing her data-banks. Or computing. Or… whatever she did.

"Penny?" America asked when she did not continue.

Penny stood up and approached the mirror. She scrutinized her reflection, green eyes flicking up to the bow atop her head. Abruptly, she removed the accessory and tossed it in the trash. America did not protest, knowing it was not his place.

Penny studied her reflection again. "Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have something I may utilize to hold my hair out of my face in the 'ponytail' style?"

America remorsefully shook his head. Penny stooped over and plucked the bow out of the trash. She untied the ribbon and pulled at her hair, frowning when it slipped between her fingers. America silently walked over and put her hair in a ponytail, leaving the ends of the ribbon loose and her bangs framing her face. Penny solemnly surveyed her reflection once more.

Green eyes looked at America in the mirror. "May we traverse to a clothing store in pursuance of distinct attire for myself in the foreseeable future?"

"Of course." America said.

Penny's mouth moved. Slowly, her lips curled upward, and her green eyes softened. "Thank you, Alfred. Thank you for seeing me as me and not her."

"You're welcome. Just know the others might not feel the same way at first." America warned. " _I_  didn't."

Penny nodded, unoffended. "Your advice has been cataloged."

"If they give you grief I'll kick their asses." America added.

"Overprotective declarations, check." Penny murmured.

America stared at her. "...What?"

"Nothing. That statement was not of any importance." Penny said.

America debated on pressing for answers for a moment before snorting and shaking his head fondly. His grin faded. "Penny?" She looked at him. America took her hand, forcing himself to smile gently. "There's something you need to know..."

As he told Penny about Vale, her expression grew more and more robotic. He hated causing such a blank, robotic stare, but he could not keep his impending dea— his status from her. When he finished, Penny said nothing, instead staring at him with absolutely no expression. America shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.

"The information Alfred F. Jones has provided has been logged into my databanks." Penny said stiffly.

America did not press her. "Okay. Do you want to meet the others now?"

"Affirmative. Delaying will increase the chance of a negative reaction by 5.3%."

America nodded and opened the door, leading the way out. The others were still in the kitchen. Russia and Ruby put the leftovers away, Oscar and Canada cleared the table, England badgered a pale-looking France into sitting down in his own scathing way, and Ren, Jaune, and Pyrrha were attempting to stop Nora from throwing the plates not the cupboard like frisbees. All activity ceased when America and Penny entered. A red blur shot at the robotic girl.

"Penny!" Ruby cried, crushing her in a hug.

Penny's eyes widened and her entire body locked. America saw the mechanisms in her backpack shift before settling back without releasing her weapons. She stood with unnatural stiffness as Ruby embraced her, looking past the girl with the most stoic expression America had ever seen on her. Weiss's low, horrified gasp was almost lost under Ruby's laugh.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" she gushed. "You were asleep for a really long time. I tried to fill you in on what you missed but I don't know if you heard me. We can talk later and get you caught up."

Ruby beamed and hugged Penny again, and America's heart ached. Penny slowly reached up and grabbed Ruby's wrists, forcing her arms away from her body. Ruby blinked at her and her eye widened as she noticed Penny's lack of expression for the first time.

"I apologize." Penny said. "But I am not your Penny."

Ruby's face fell. Yang twitched forward violently, eyes flashing red, before they faded to her usual violet as comprehension crossed her face. America would have winced if he was not expecting the blunt statement. Penny was not one for breaking news gently, particularly not to someone she saw as a stranger.

"For clarification purposes, you may consider me Penny Polendina's sister." Penny said firmly.

Ruby's mouth moved wordlessly.

Weiss came to the rescue. "It is nice to meet you, Penny. I'm Weiss Schnee." she said, holding out her hand.

Penny considered the outstretched limb before taking it and giving it a shake. "Hello. I apologize for causing you distress with my appearance."

Pyrrha dropped her head and her bangs fell over her eyes.

"You're not." Weiss claimed smoothly. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"My systems are running optimally." Penny confirmed.

Ruby abruptly backed away from her. "Yeah. Okay. I see. I, uh— I'm a bit tired. Goodnight."

She fled to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Canada put a hand to his head. "That could have gone better."

"Such a reaction was probable. I do not mind it." Penny claimed, and America had a feeling that was the truth.

She looked expectantly at the others. They took the hint and gathered around her and introduced themselves. Penny nodded politely to each of them except Pyrrha, who she did not look at. The champion wisely kept her distance, and America mentally berated himself for not asking Penny if the 'kill-Pyrrha' program was deleted from her systems. She appeared to be doing okay, and barely jumped when Jaune sneezed and drew her attention towards Pyrrha. The champion tensed, but Penny barely spared her a glance.

"Gesundheit." she told Jaune.

The knight nodded. "Thanks."

America hung back and settled into a chair, hovering nearby if Penny needed an intervention but letting her do her own thing. Slowly she relaxed, and although the others looked a bit startled by some of her statements and speech patterns, she seemed to be doing okay. Then again, most of them had not been that close to Penny Polendina. America glanced towards Ruby's room and sighed. He supposed it was too much to ask for her to accept someone who looked like her dead friend straight away.

XXXXXXX

Lithuania stepped outside and already felt the warning signs of a headache. Taiwan, Poland, Iceland, and Wy sat in the back yard behind America's mansion, their pants and skirts covered in grass stains as they stared intently at something between them. A bunch of pink bows floated in midair, and Lithuania held back a sigh, wondering how they convinced Uni to let them put decorations in her mane. Normally the unicorn hated having accessories put on her.

When England had gifted her to America, complete with a collar, the unicorn had done everything in her power to get the thing off. It had taken America a while to understand why the floating collar was thrashing about angrily, but once he had, he immediately freed her. When Lithuania had mentioned she might wander off, America had claimed that was her choice, but he'd appreciate if she stayed. In the end, Uni had stuck around, and the rest was history. Complete with the occasional trip whenever someone failed to realize the unicorn was there.

Poland spotted Lithuania and waved. "Hey, Liet! I'm mad at you."

Lithuania took in the exaggerated pout on his friend's face and sighed. "What did I do?"

"You didn't tell me about the cutest pony in the world." Poland cooed. "You should have, like, introduced us sooner."

"I'm sorry." Lithuania said as he approached. "I didn't expect you to be able to interact with her."

"Of course we can. Most people can't see her— including us— but we can touch her." Taiwan explained. "We're giving her a makeover."

Lithuania's eyebrows crept up his forehead. "And she's letting you?"

"She's lonely." Iceland said. He twitched. "Not that I can see her to tell."

Lithuania shot the nation an odd look. Iceland had arrived shortly after the battle at China's house, and settled in with the other Nordics and a few of the younger personifications. He did not look happy to be involved in Uni's 'makeover', but when Wy handed him a bow, he attached it to the unicorn without complaint. And with surprising ease. A suspicion formed in Lithuania's mind but he kept it to himself.

"Well, we're here to keep her company now." Poland boasted. A grin split his face and he squealed, hugging the invisible unicorn tightly and rubbing his cheek against her. "She's so cute! I should totally ride her into battle!"

"You are  _not_  riding Uni into battle." Lithuania said sharply.

"Why not?" Poland asked. "She could totally kick ass."

Lithuania's eye twitched.

Poland noticed and hastily changed the subject. "Soooo why are you out here?"

"I was looking for you." Lithuania said. "We have a meeting. It's… pretty important."

Poland nodded and rose, brushing grass from his pants. "Finish up while I'm gone. Uni must look  _stunning_!"

"Okay." Wy said.

"Got it." Taiwan agreed.

Iceland sighed and picked up another bow, wondering how he got roped into this.

Lithuania and Poland were the last ones to arrive in the unofficial meeting room of the Anti-Grimm Alliance of Transoceanic Enforcers— or AGATE for short. Germany was already standing at the head of the table, somehow looking more grim and serious then he usually did. As one of the few who knew the purpose of this meeting, Lithuania understood why.

Germany wasted no time in starting. "Thank you for coming. There is something you all need to be aware of. Last week, Lithuania came to me with something… disturbing." The nations glanced Lithuania's way but turned back to Germany as he continued. "He figured out that some of the names listed in the casualties to the Grimm are not our people. To be blunt, they are not people from Earth at all."

"They're from  _Remnant_?" Hungary exclaimed.

Germany nodded once. "Yes. Specifically, they are most likely from Atlas seeing as how they are the only ones we know of with the technology and motivation to come to Earth. We spent the last week making sure without… alerting certain parties, and that subset of people are definitely not from any country of this world." He hesitated briefly. "Nor are they likely the only ones here."

His words caused an immediate uproar and the nations shouted over each other, questions and demands lost in the cacophony of noise.

"QUIET!" Germany boomed and they became silent. "One at a time, please."

"Are you saying there may be Atlas spies in my country?" Switzerland demanded instantly.

"Possibly." Germany said.

"How long have they been here?" Romania asked.

"We cannot be certain, but they probably have been stationed on Earth since the twins were taken the first time." He grimaced. "Or even before that."

"Were they planning an invasion?" Spain asked testily.

Germany shook his head. "Unlikely, though they have been passing information to their superiors about us."

"How do you know that?" Hungary demanded.

"Because that was what Greenlee was doing." Prussia answered for his brother. "He spied on America for Atlas."

"...Do you think the Grimm are hunting the Atlas plants on purpose?" Spain brought up.

There was a beat of silence as the nations considered that possibility.

"It is likely." Germany admitted.

"But  _why_?" Finland asked. "Surely Salem or whoever is in charge would want us to have Atlas spies to worry about?"

"Maybe not." China murmured. "You all seem to have forgotten what the Atlas soldiers have." Upon receiving blank stared, he scowled. "They have  _Aura_."

"What does that—?" Denmark's question was interrupted when Hungary gasped.

"They have Aura… and they know how to activate it in others." She stared around the table, eyes wide. "Salem isn't killing them to help us. She's tying up loose ends and killing them to keep us from learning how to unlock Earth's people's Auras."

"But we already know how to do that." Liechtenstein mentioned, brow furrowed.

Hungary's expression grew grim. " _We_  do.  _Our bosses_  don't."

Silence fell around the table as they slowly realized the implications of her words.

"Without Aura, our people have a slight disadvantage." Prussia murmured. "We have superior weaponry at our disposal, but here a simple wild animal can kill a human, and Grimm are human-killing machines. But if we had Aura and Semblances and combined their usage with our technology..."

"We'd be a pretty big threat to Salem or Remnant, depending on who is pulling the strings." Switzerland finished.

"Would Atlas kill her own men to keep our governments from getting—?" Korea reconsidered his words. "You know what, never mind. She would."

"Wouldn't we know if our bosses were looking for Remnant people?" Poland mentioned.

Lithuania stared at him in exasperation. "You know we wouldn't. They don't always tell us these things. But if they are, it explains how willing they were to let us keep the secrets of Aura to ourselves."

"So what do we do with this?" Austria asked. He pushed his glasses up his nose, lips set in a deep frown. "Let's say that our governments  _are_  searching for spies of Atlas, and the Grimm are loosely hunting them to silence them. What do we do?"

Before Germany spoke, Lithuania already knew the answer. "We have to find them first: before the Grimm or our governments do."

"And then what?" Austria asked quietly. "We can't let them roam free or send them on their merry way. We'll have to hold them somewhere without our bosses finding out or… or kill them ourselves."

"They  _are_  spies." Spain said levelly, normally jovial face hard. "They came to this world with the intent of learning our secrets and possibly exploiting them."

"Indeed. They are spies, and they shall be treated as such." Germany agreed. "But we'll try to take them in alive for now. We need information on their orders and comrades."

"They won't give that up easily." Prussia mentioned.

Germany's expression darkened. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was two chapters but I put it into one. *shrugs*


	3. Haunted

" _Got the coffee?"_

" _Affirmative, I have the drink made from the roasted and ground bean seeds of a tropical shrub."_

" _Okay. Here goes."_

…

"RISE AND SHINE BRO!"

Canada woke to the brutally cold hardness of the wooden floorboards of his room. His mattress landed on top of him and he hissed, clawing at the legs he could spot next to him. Before he could enact vengeance, a hand grabbed his wrist and put a mug of steaming, wonderful coffee in it. Canada instantly sat up, careful not to spill the precious drink, and took a few chugs, his mind clearing.

America smirked at him, too happy and cheerful for the Godawful hour he had woken Canada at, while Penny stared at him intently. Not in the mood for conversation just yet, Canada grunted and took another sip of nice, lovely coffee. Yes, coffee was much nicer and more lovable than he stupid twin whose sole purpose in life was to make Canada miserable. Alfred was most definitely the evil twin of the duo, for who but an evil twin would wake their sibling so evilly?

"You can stop glaring at me, Mattie." America said in a cheerful,  _chirping_  voice that he had to be using just to annoy Canada. "You're making Penny twitchy."

"My fine-tuned motor functions are functioning perfectly." Penny denied.

Canada grunted again and emptied his cup, shoving it at America. "More."

America took the mug graciously— asshole was far too awake for this early hour,  _dammit_ — and smiled infuriatingly. "Wow. Two cups right off the bat? How badly did you sleep?" His tone remained light and teasing but Canada could hear the worry underneath.

"Not well." he said shortly.

He did not elaborate, glowering until America snickered and sauntered out of the room to retrieve more caffeine. As Canada accepted the second cup and downed it, he was relieved when America did not press him. Canada was not about to tell his twin his lack of sleep was because of him. Canada paused mid-sip, staring at the dark liquid in the cup. He could just see his reflection in it, and as his hand trembled, the image faded away in the ripples.

"Mattie?" America questioned.

Canada jerked his gaze away from the cup. "Still tired. Give me a sec." He drank the rest of the coffee, wincing as it burned his throat, and set the cup down. He smiled at Penny. "Good morning."

"I told you so." America crowed.

Penny nodded solemnly. "You are indeed correct. Matthew displays a completely different personality before he consumes caffeine."

"I'm not that bad!" Canada protested.

"You are." America and Penny said in unison.

America beamed, hugging the robotic girl. "See? Penny agrees with me."

"The facts and my observations confirm it." Penny said solemnly.

Canada groaned. "How did you get roped into helping Alfred wake me?"

"There was no 'rope' involved." Penny informed him. "America asked if I wanted to take part in the important ritual to wake you." Her head tipped. "Flipping the mattress was effective, but it is not a practical solution. Surely an electric shock would be more efficient?"

Canada squeaked.

America laughed. Traitor. "Nah. That would be mean."

"Noted." Penny said in that same, serious tone.

She truly was different than the Penny Polendina Canada and the others knew. As he followed America and Penny out, Canada silently vowed to try to differentiate the two girls in his mind and not expect this Penny to be that one. It would save them all a lot of grief. It was also a lot easier said than done.

The rest of their party was already eating breakfast. Weiss took one look at Canada and silently made him a plate of pancakes and sausage, setting it in an empty spot. When Canada eyed her questioningly, the former heiress raised an eyebrow.

"You look like you would drop it." she said bluntly.

Canada felt his cheek redden. "Thanks."

He picked up his fork and grabbed Nora's wrist, stopping her from stealing a pancake. She smiled innocently at him and he growled.

"It seems a Nora has trespassed into a Matthew's territory." Australia said in a hushed, narrator-like voice. "Which one shall be victorious in this fight and escape with their prey?"

Blake snorted inelegantly into her orange juice.

Canada dare not look away from Nora long enough to glower at them. He pushed her arm away from his plate and pulled his plate closer to him. Nora's eyes twinkled but Ren placed a plate piled high with the coveted pancakes in front of her, distracting her. Canada turned back to his food, pleased he would no longer have to watch out for orange-haired thieves.

"Aw. I wanted to see them fight." Australia complained.

"No fighting at the breakfast table." England said sternly.

Australia waited until England's back was turned to stick his tongue out at him. This time it was Yang who attempted to muffle her giggles in her drink. She choked, spluttering and spitting orange juice at Italy. The brown-haired nation shrieked and fell backwards, landing on the floor with a thud. He raised his arm, waving it.

"I'm okay!"

"I'm sorry." Yang yelped between her coughs.

Japan and Jaune helped Italy up and righted his chair. He accepted a napkin from Ruby with a smile and wiped the juice from his face. "It's fine. It didn't get my clothes." Italy said cheerfully.

Canada rolled his eyes and turned back to his plate. He paused, counting the pancakes. He counted them again, then slowly raised his gaze to glower at Nora. The girl stared back, cheeks puffed in an incriminatory manner. Her lips quirked into a close-lipped smile. Canada glared daggers at her and stabbed a pancake on her plate, putting it on his and daring her to argue. She swallowed and pouted at him, looking to Ren for sympathy.

The ninja did not look up from his food. "You brought that on yourself, Nora."

"I only took half of one." Nora protested.

"So you  _admit it._ " Canada challenged.

"Fight fight fight fight." Australia whispered.

England smacked him upside the head. "Nora, Matthew, enough. There's more pancakes on the stove."

"Yes, England." Canada said.

_But it's_ _ **pancakes**_ _!_ He thought sulkily.

"Spoilsport." Nora muttered.

England glared at her so she looked at a corner and whistled innocently. Finishing his plate, Canada got up to retrieve more pancakes, apologizing as he forced the people between his seat and the kitchen to move in. The dining area was not the most spacious place, and certainly not meant for so many people. They had to take what they could get. He piled his plate with more of the delicious breakfast food and returned, passing by the Schnees.

"...always like this?" Whitley was whispering.

"Not always, but often. Especially since almost everyone is health— here." Weiss murmured back. "If it's too loud you can eat in your room—"

"No." Whitley interrupted. "It is alright. Just… different. There are so many people."

Canada stopped himself from thinking about the implications of that statement. He sat down and devoured his food while America watched in amusement. No, Canada was  _not_  scarfing them like he had not eaten in days. No, he was  _not_  a hypocrite because he often teased America for how he ate burgers. Pancakes were just that amazing. They would be even better with maple syrup but beggars could not be choosers.

Pyrrha neatly set down her fork onto her empty plate and cleared her throat. "Penny?"

The robot's head snapped unnaturally to the side, zeroing in on the champion like a hawk spotting prey. Pyrrha met her intense gaze, seemingly calm.

"Are we going to have a problem?" Pyrrha asked steadily.

Penny considered her for a long, tense pause, never blinking once. "I fail to compute your query."

"She's asking if you're going to attack her again." America said bluntly.

Canada jabbed him in the side for his bluntness but he shrugged unapologetically. Canada stopped when he saw his twin's answer satisfied Penny.

"No. The protocol demanding your death has been deleted from my systems." Penny said.

Pyrrha relaxed. "Good. I'm glad."

Penny blinked, and nodded slowly. "I am satisfied with that outcome as well."

America grinned. Canada shot him a questioning look but his twin merely winked.

"So are we still on for the mission today?" Ruby asked, staring intently at the tabletop and not Penny.

"Mission?" America asked.

Suddenly, everyone found the walls, table, and ceiling to be very fascinating.

Ruby froze. "Uh..."

America frowned. "What mission?"

Canada avoided looking at him. "There's a pack of Grimm settled close to here. The mayor wants to get rid of them before they can cause problems."

America brightened. "Great! I'll get Cobalt Striker and—"

"You're not coming." Canada blurted.

Hurt flashed across America's face before he covered it with a chuckle. "Bro, I know I just got out of the hospital but I'm all healed up." He smiled, but it looked like a breath of wind could snuff it out. "And we haven't been able to spend much time to—"

"That's not why." England interrupted.

America's jaw clicked shut and his fingers clenched around his fork with an audible creak. He hastily released the utensil to reveal finger-shaped bends in the metal. America carefully set it down.

"As you can see from that, my strength has not waned in a debilitating fashion." he said, tone clipped. "I am perfectly capable of assisting you on the mission."

The comparatively formal way in which he spoke made Canada's insides shrivel up with dread. America was upset.  _Really_  upset.  _Oh, maple._

"It has nothing to do with your… condition." Canada claimed, even though it definitely did. "In case you forgot, Salem is still after you. You… We can't risk letting you be captured again." Every word felt like ash on his tongue.

"Forgot…?" America asked dangerously, putting a hand over his green eye. "How could I  _forget_?"

Lightning flared over his frame, making Nora and Canada's hair stand on end. America flinched and his shoulders hunched, like he was trying to make himself smaller. The electricity in the air faded and Canada shivered, questioning just how much control America had over Vale's Semblance.

"You know what? Don't worry about it. Go on the mission. It's cool." America lied. "I'll just… hang out here."

He stood abruptly and walked out. Only Penny dared to follow him, pausing in the doorway. She looked back at them, and if Canada did not know better, he would swear she was glowering at them. She left before he could be sure.

"Great first day, everyone." Russia said brightly. "And Arthur, you once again prove to be able to alienate any—"

"Oh, sod off." England snapped wearily.

"So who is staying here with the Angry Lightning God?" Nora asked casually.

"I'm going to visit Sun today." Blake said, looking guiltily relieved.

"The rest of us are on the mission except Feliciano, Lovino, Francis, Jett, Whitley, Klein, and Oscar." Ruby reminded her.

"And me." Ren added. "It is my turn to guard the Relic."

"Why can't I go?" Australia demanded.

Italy belatedly looked up from his food, registered what had happened, and paled drastically. "Oh no. Alfred's going to start burning things again!"

"No he won't." England said gruffly. "And  _you_  aren't going because you just walked out of the hospital, Jett."

Australia sighed, slumping in his chair with a huff. "I want to fight Grimm."

"You'll get your chance." Canada predicted ominously.

Australia misunderstood his tone and perked up. Or maybe he wanted a fight. It was probably the latter. "Sounds ace!"

Canada sighed. At least someone was excited at the prospect of facing Salem's minions.

XXXXXXX

America prowled back and forth across his, Canada, Australia, and England's shared room, each stride long and furious much like a caged lion. If someone were to pass by, they may believe an actual lion was inside the room for all the times he growled and snarled.

_I can't_ _**believe** _ _them! One day after I tell them about Vale and they're already acting like I'm on my deathbed. I'm not invalid. I'm not helpless. I may be possibly terminally ill but that doesn't mean I'm going to trip and fall into my grave. They kept their mission a secret because they knew I'd want to go but poor wittle helpless Alfred is so damn weak that he can't be trusted to go on a simple Grimm-hunting mission. It's not like I wanted to spend time with my brothers since I haven't seen them in freaking_ _**months** _ _. Salem isn't watching through the eyes of every Grimm everywhere. A Beowolf isn't going to see me and go 'Hey, that's Vale. Let's bring him to our Queen.' Even if a Grimm did, they aren't smart enough to pull the hostage card so I could kick their asses and turn them into dust. I— I just can't believe them! They're pulling this garbage_ _**already** _ _? I'm not so sick that I'll collapse in the middle of a mission. I'm not that weak, dammit!_

"You are certainly not weak." Penny agreed. "You have more than enough strength to speak with me through your Semblance."

America blinked at her, belatedly realizing he had not been speaking aloud. That might be a good thing. These walls were rather thin.

_Oops,_ he thought, and nearly slapped himself.

"Oops." he said aloud, making sure to form the word. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"It is alright. I understand your frustration." Penny said. "You may get into trouble seventy percent of the time but you are more than capable of getting yourself out of trouble as well."

America stared at her, wondering whether he should be insulted or not. She seemed to be on his side so he decided to smile. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." Penny said primly.

America flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Any ideas on how I can convince them I'm not about to cough up blood?"  _So I can spend the day with my brothers— Stop being needy, idiot._

"Based on previously acquired data there is a twenty percent chance of that happening." Penny mentioned.

America grimaced. "Not yet there isn't. Let me modify my question: Any ideas on how I can convince them I'm able to take care of myself and fight?"  _I thought we'd be able to hang out…_ _ **Stop it**_ _._

"Take part in a battle and kick the ass." Penny said stoically.

America chuckled. He swore he saw Penny's lips twitch. "That would probably work. I guess once we leave town I'll get my chance." He grimaced. "We can't stay here long. Salem's cronies will already be after the Relic of Creation."

"And you." Penny pointed out.

America sighed. "Yeah. And me." He frowned. "You know, I have to wonder why Salem herself hasn't come to grab the nations and Relics. If she's such a big threat, why stay back and have minions do everything?"

"Based on available data, I have created a hypothesis." Penny said. At America's nod she continued. "I believe she may fear Ozpin."

America considered her theory. "That… may be it. We really don't know what Ozpin is capable of, do we?"

Vale scoffed.  _"No, you_ _ **don't**_ _."_

_Want to share the reason for your beef with him yet?"_ America asked.

" _Ye—"_ Vale coughed like she'd choked on her own tongue. _"...No. It is not important."_

_It must be if you're holding a grudge._

Silence reigned.

America sighed.  _Again with the silent treatment? Really?_  He looked to Penny. "Speaking of Ozpin, I'm going to talk to Oscar. We haven't really spoken. You want to come?"

" _You shouldn't—"_  Vale cut herself off.

America waited but she did not finish.

"Will you remain in this complex?" Penny asked. When America nodded she said. "I shall remain here. Even you cannot find trouble one room away."

America stuck his tongue out at her. "Rude."

"Seventy percent." Penny reminded him.

"Rude!" America huffed and walked out.

He immediately found Oscar in the living room watching TV. The boy frowned at the screen, which America realized was playing Vale's news VNN. He glanced at the title banner for the story and did a double take. 'ATLAS DIVIDED: INHUMANE PRACTICES EXPOSED!' it said.

_They already know what happened?_  America thought, stunned.

" _Even if the footage was not broadcast everywhere on Remnant, we are in Frontier."_  Vale pointed out.  _"It's—"_

_One of the more advanced cities of Vale, I know. If anyone could spread the word about Atlas it would be this place._ America grimaced.  _I'm shocked someone did. I thought this was supposed to be hush-hush._

" _As if people would keep quiet about the Institute."_  Vale said.  _"Many were already angry at Atlas for the Atlesian Knights' massacre during the fall of Beacon. This is just adding fuel to the flames."_

_Well its not like Vale is capable of helping the rebels or anything at the moment,_ America said.  _All this will do is… divide… people… further…_  He trailed off as he slowly realized the implications.  _You don't think Mistral will take advantage of this and attack the Atlas remnants, do you? Vale is busy and Vacuo doesn't care but Mistral is perfectly functional. They stopped the attack on Haven so nothing bad happened over there._

" _Mistral might plan an attack."_  Vale admitted.  _"It depends on whether they see some benefits from an invasion."_

_Great. More chaos. Just what Salem wants._ America shook his head and walked into Oscar's view with a smile. "Hey."

The boy jumped, dropping the remote. "Oh. Alfred. H-Hello." he stammered.

America put his hands in his pockets. "So… you're Oscar, right?"

Vale shifted and a brief flicker of unease prodded at his mind.

"Yes." The boy said, voice squeaky. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm Oscar. I also have Ozpin in my head, if you didn't know."

America did know. He had been there when Ozpin took over yesterday. He did not chide the nervous boy for the question and instead hummed, nodding absently. "So how's the hero life treating you?"

"What?" Oscar blinked, visibly startled by the query. He scuffed a foot on the ground. "It's… interesting."

America had to chuckle at his diplomatic answer. "You can be honest."

Oscar shifted, glancing aside and down as he scratched at his cheek. "I… don't know how I feel about it yet. The Transformation Institute was pretty bad."

America grimaced sympathetically. "Was that your first mission?"

"Kind of." Oscar said, rocking on the balls of his feet. "I took part in the Haven battle but that was not really a battle. It was more of a 'get through the mob to the other side' kind of thing."

America felt his expression soften. "Are you doing okay? The Institute was a hellhole."

Oscar winced. "Yes, I'm fine. And yeah… it wasn't a very nice place."

America put a hand on his shoulder and the boy blinked at him. Gosh, he was  _young_. Maybe even younger than Ruby. He lacked the battle scars she had gained, which made him appear even more green when it came to the life he found himself in. America's heart went out to the kid, and he made sure to keep his voice soft and kind.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Oscar's brow furrowed. "Talk about it?"

America nodded. "You saw some pretty awful things. It's best to talk about it or it might eat you up inside. If you don't want to talk to me, talk to  _someone_ , please. You don't have to hold it in."

Oscar bit his lip, averting his gaze. "I… I don't…." His face crumpled. "So many people died."

He shivered under America's hand and the nation had to resist the instinct to pull the kid into a hug. "Yeah. They did."

"The soldiers and robots just mowed them down like they were  _animals_." Oscar babbled, eyes glazing. "Those people were helpless, but the soldiers killed them like they were  _nothing_. They had families and friends and lives and they were just— just  _gone_ , just like that." His voice lowered, so soft America had to strain his ears to hear him. "I couldn't help them."

"You sometimes can't." America said. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't  _try_  to. Even if you only manage to save one person, then that's one more person who lived. As for those who were lost…" He shut his eyes, forcing away memories of countless battles and deaths. "You can remember them if you want, but don't let their memory consume you." He prodded the boy lightly in the shoulder. "Don't you forget them either. It can be hard, but you have to fight for them, for those still with you, and for yourself."

Oscar's eyebrows scrunched together. "But… aren't I supposed to fight for the world too?"

"Yes, I suppose." America admitted. "But I've found it's better to think of the little picture instead of the big one all the time. If you only think about saving the world, you'll lose a  _lot_  more on the way."

Oscar stared at him, eyes round, as if he had never considered that before. He twitched, frowning, and America guessed Ozpin was saying something.

Oscar sighed. "Ozpin asked how Vale is doing inside your head."

Vale snarled.  _"Tell Ozpin 'Fuck off, you slimy son of a bitch.'"_

"Vale says 'Hi'. She's fine." America said blandly. "But we can talk about her later. Enough doom and gloom and world-saving talk. Tell me about yourself."

Again, Oscar looked caught off guard. Okay, America was going to have to have a  _serious_  talk with the others about how they've been treating the kid. What, was he just Ozpin's mouthpiece to them? America seriously hoped not. Otherwise he would have to kick some ass.

"Let me go first." he encouraged. He flashed a smile. "I'm Alfred F. Jones. I like comic books, archaeology, and adventures." He lowered his voice and winked. "I also have a pet unicorn but don't tell anybody."

Oscar hesitated. "Um. Oscar Pine. I'm not that interesting. I was just a farmhand before all of this. I lived with my aunt."

"What kind of farm?" America asked in genuine interest.

"We grew vegetables. It's not that exciting." Oscar said shyly.

America chuckled. "I suppose not. Did you farm all day or did you have time for other things?"

"I… like to read." Oscar admitted. "Adventure stories mostly."

"Those are the best." America said. "Dang. I wish I could bring over some books from Earth. We have a bunch you've never heard of."

"Are they about people having to save the world from a big evil?" Oscar asked quietly.

America's smile faded. "Some of them."

Oscar nodded slowly, staring at the ground. A shudder went through him and he clasped at his head. "Stop. Please just  _stop_. Can I have  _one_  conversation where you don't butt in?"

America winced, knowing that was not directed at him.

There was a pause, and Oscar looked up, eyes burning even as they brimmed with tears. "I  _hate_  this! Why did Ozpin have to come to me? Why  _me_? I didn't ask to be the host of some guy who is supposed to save Remnant! I— I always wanted to be more than a farmhand, but I didn't want to be  _humanity's_   _savior_." More tears gathered in his eyes. "So many people are going to die..."

America ditched his reservations and pulled the kid into the hug. Oscar twitched but clung to him, biting his lip to hold back his sobs. Again, America was struck by how young he was. How young him, and RWBY and JNPR  _all_ were. He knew that this world ran differently than Earth, but these children were trained from a young age to become warriors in Ozpin's war. Oscar did not even have the cushion of prior Academy experience to fall back to. He was a farmhand who was expected to be a leader in a war he never knew existed beforehand.

"Some people will die." America said bluntly. "But that doesn't mean you can't fight to protect them. I… I understand what it's like to not really have a choice in the end. To be… drafted into a war that is not yours."

" _I'm sorry."_  Vale whispered.

_It's not your fault._ America reminded her firmly. "But the past is the past. I'm fighting now, and its my choice to keep fighting. Not for the war, or Ozpin, or to defeat Salem, but to protect the people I care about in this conflict. I know it's a strange way to think, but if I'm going to be part of this fight, I'm going to do my damn best to make sure my friends come out of it alive." He released Oscar and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You can make that choice too. Don't get lost in the goals of others. It will only cause you pain. Instead fight for what  _you_  want to, and who you want to."

Oscar stared at him, eyes round.

Green light flashed over his frame and his eyes glowed gold. America immediately backed away, crossing his arms so he would not reach for Cobalt Striker. Vale's fury pounded in his skull, thrumming like fire in his veins.

Ozpin eyed him levelly, a frown playing at his lips. "Alfred—"

"Did you just take over without permission?" America demanded.

"I understand your intentions, but please stop trying to force your views onto Oscar." Ozpin said.

Vale's anger spiked but she reeled it in, slamming the door shut between their minds so America could no longer feel her emotions.

His hand clenched into a fist. "Oh. Is that what I'm doing?" America asked scathingly. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Ozpin frowned at him. "Oscar needs to understand the importance of defeating Salem—"

"Don't. Even." America snarled. "The kid ' _needs to understand_ ' the importance of  _saving people._  He has a kind heart. If you try to blind him to the small picture by only showing him the big one, he's going to suffer a breakdown. Actually, he'll  _break_  in general. He needs  _hope and companionship_ , not isolation and a goal he can barely understand."

Ozpin eyed him disapprovingly. America could not care less.

"Defeating Salem will save millions of lives." Ozpin claimed.

"And saving a few lives along the way will make that endgame worth it." America shot back. "I've listened to ten too many 'For the Greater Good' speeches to fall for that crap anymore. You're all about choice. Let Oscar choose what he is fighting for on his own." He glared at Ozpin and felt lightning flicker over his skin. "You've sacrificed enough people. You've played chess with their lives for too long. How about you start trying to  _save_  them instead?"

He turned on his heel and stalked out the door, leaving Ozpin alone.


	4. Acknowledging the Damage

Ruby crouched in a treetop, sniper scope to her eye. She focused it on a bush five hundred feet ahead, watching it rustle. Red eyes peered out between the leaves and Ruby centered her sight between them. She felt wind tickle her skin and adjusted her aim slightly before her finger compressed on the trigger. The bullet hit the Ursa between the eyes and it crumpled, fading into smoke.

Satisfied, she lowered Crescent Rose.  _This_  was how Grimm were hunted. With a trusty sniper rifle and her own awesome skills. Not with some crazy superpower that destroyed everything it touched—

"Good shot." Matthew praised Ruby, mercifully pulling her out of that line of thought.

Weiss smiled in agreement and put a hand to her ear. "Ruby got the Ursa."

" _Noted."_  Winter said, voice crackling through the comm.

" _Can we stop sneaking around now?"_ Nora complained.  _"I want to whack some Grimm."_

" _You are not 'whacking' Grimm unless it becomes necessary."_  Winter said firmly.  _"Did you not learn about stealth-hunting in school? Atlas has full courses on covering your tracks and preventing Grimm from pinpointing your location while eliminating them from a distance."_

"I think Beacon fell before we could have that lesson." Weiss said dryly.

There was an awkward pause.  _"My apologies. Let me teach you the basics."_ Winter said coolly but Ruby knew her ire was only directed at a…  _certain_  loud and orange-haired individual.  _"At times, it is better to pick off Grimm from the shadows, particularly when you do not know their numbers and you are in an area with little visibility."_

Nora sighed loudly, making the communicator crackle. " _But this is_ _ **boring**_ _."_

" _Your lack of discipline is appalling."_  Winter said flatly.  _"We are not here for excitement. We are here to kill the Grimm before they can reach the town."_

Nora growled.

" _It's a good thing Al isn't here with us. He'd go crazy."_  Pyrrha interrupted before an argument could start, likely started by Nora or Jaune as he defended his teammate.

"Not really." Matthew said. "He knows to take stealth missions seriously." He paused, wincing. "Not that you're  _not_ taking this seriously, Nora."

" _You're on thin ice, Emperor Curly."_ Nora joked.

" _Convene on our position."_ Winter ordered and disconnected.

Ruby frowned at Weiss's comm. "Weiss? Don't be offended, but why is your sister taking charge?"

"She's the senior Huntress with the most experience." Weiss explained. "I know her style can be… abrasive but she's used to working with soldiers."

"We're  _not_  soldiers." Ruby said.

"She knows." Matthew assured her. "But I have to admit her tactics are effective." He raised Maple Frost, aimed, and shot a Beowolf by the base of its ear. It disintegrated into smoke. "Got a Beowolf. Look out for its pack and Alpha." he reported shortly into the comms.

" _Understood."_  Winter said and hung up.

Matthew sighed and turned to Ruby and Weiss. "Shall we?"

Ruby jumped down from the tree, landing with a soft thud. Matthew did the same while Weiss followed more gracefully.

"I get that Winter's all for efficiency but I'm with Nora. I expected more excitement." Ruby commented as they began walking towards the others.

"Ruby, you should be happy this mission is boring." Matthew said, and only his gentle tone kept Ruby from bristling. "You know what we'll have to face eventually."

_Salem and her best._  Ruby grimaced. "You know what? You're right. I'd rather have 'boring' right now."

Matthew chuckled dryly, but his gaze was distant. "Don't get used to it."

Weiss and Ruby looked at each other uncertainly.

"We won't." the white-haired girl promised.

XXXXXXX

When the Huntsmen and Huntresses returned from their mission, America met them at the door, scanning each for injury. The only thing changed about their appearance was the slight smear of dirt on Jaune's cheek. None of them sported a single bruise, and America felt something inside his stomach loosen.

"Hey." he greeted, having expelled all his anger in his internal rant earlier. "How was the mission?" He pretended not to notice how Yang froze like a deer in the headlights when he spoke.

" _Boring_." Nora groaned, flopping facedown on the couch. "We might as well have been cutting down grass."

Ren wandered out of his room with the Relic of Creation in its unofficial holster. He patted Nora's shoulder consolingly as she whined into a pillow.

"The Grimm in this area were young and easy to take out." Japan translated.

"They were not even a challenge." Russia sniffled.

Penny blinked, and America knew her well enough to spot her confusion when he saw it. If he had to guess, he'd say she was questioning why they would be disappointed with an easy battle. Easy battles took less time and allowed fighters to be more efficient so what was the problem?

Nora sighed loudly, pulling him out of his musing. " _Booooorrrrriiinnnnggg._ " she moaned.

America stifled a chuckle. "That sucks. Maybe next time you'll fight a herd of Griffons or something."

"Don't joke about that." England groused.

"How was your day?" Ruby interjected.

"Good. I talked with Oscar a bit." America allowed his smile to fall. "Winter, you're excused."

The Specialist raised an eyebrow but was used to him enough by now not to question him. "Why, thank you." she said dryly and went to Whitley's room.

The others watched her go and simultaneously looked back to America.

"Are we in trouble?" Ruby asked curiously.

"Maybe." America said, tapping his foot on the floor. "Have any of you talked to Oscar about anything?"

"Define 'anything'." Weiss asked.

America stared at them, unimpressed. "I don't know whether I should be appalled or flabbergasted. Have any of you talked to Oscar about the  _Institute?_ "

"The—? Oh." Pyrrha said, green eyes widening.

"Yeah. ' _Oh_.'" America groused. "Seriously,  _none_  of you thought to check up on him after  _that_?"

"To be honest, it slipped our minds." Ren said, but America could hear the guilt in his voice.

"Uncle Qrow usually did that stuff." Ruby mumbled, voice small.

America winced.

Penny was not as easily dissuaded. "Mental health is an important part of human health overall. Suffering from lingering trauma could be detrimental to combat performance and Aura generation."

"Really?" Italy asked. "Trauma affects Aura? I didn't know that."

Penny nodded. "Indeed; My statement is factual. The Aura is the extension of the soul. Through trauma, the soul can suffer, and thus affect the Aura. If a human is traumatized, it can prevent them from raising their Aura in a dire situation as displayed by Alfred when—"

America clapped a hand over her mouth.  _I haven't told them yet_ , he thought to her, not wanting to risk saying it out loud.

None of them knew about his scars, scars given to him by a mere human and spelled out exactly what Atlas and her cronies thought of him. Sacrifice: a life to be taken away for the benefits of others. He did not exactly intend to keep it a secret but… he made sure to dress when his brothers were out of the room or asleep. And took extra time to make sure that the scars were hidden under the bandages. And came up with a story that the bandages were there so no one would question how quickly he healed. And—

Penny eyed him unhappily but nodded.

"What about you guys?" America asked, looking at his fellow nations.

Japan shifted uncomfortably. "We don't really know Oscar well enough. And with Ozpin in his mind…"

"We're not sure we can trust him." Canada finished.

"So you left him with  _Ozpin_  to give him advice?" America asked flatly.

Canada winced. "We honestly did not think about it."

America sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's fine. I talked to him a bit. Just… stop thinking of him as Ozpin, okay? Oscar is still himself. He's not to blame for what Ozpin did and didn't do." In his mind, Vale gave a strangled snarl.

England flinched. America frowned at his older brother, befuddled by his reaction.

"We're sorry." Ruby mumbled.

America balked and smiled at her. "Oh. Uh, I'm not asking for an apology. I suppose it sounds like that." He chuckled awkwardly and scratched his cheek. "I guess I care about the kid already." His Scroll vibrated and he pulled it out, frowning. It was a message from Penny. He opened it.

" _Are you certain that your defense of Oscar does not originate from how your friends and family treated you while you had amnesia? Projecting is a common tactic that those with trauma use to—"_

America shut off the screen without reading the rest, shooting Penny a glare. She blinked at him innocently. Despite the expression, he knew her question was genuine. Why did she have to bring it up? It was not true, of course, but  _damn it_  why did Polendina have to upload a bunch of psychology books into her database?

"Is something wrong?" Weiss asked.

"Wrong number." America claimed. He jabbed a finger at the group. "Be nice to the kid, m'kay? My list of reasons to kick your butts is already getting long."

"Yes, mom." Yang drawled sarcastically. She grinned at America, who smiled back. The smile froze on Yang's face and her eyes jerked away from his. "I… uh— I need to..." Her jaw clamped shut and she hurried to her room, shutting the door behind her.

America frowned, perplexed. "Did I have something in my teeth?"

"The last time you saw each other was at the Festival incident." Russia reminded him, and his wide smile failed to reach his eyes.

America remembered pain and crazed red eyes. "Oh." he said, calmer than he felt. "Uh. I… had other things to think about."

"What incident is he speaking of?" Penny asked.

"At the Festival, Yang sh—"

"Nothing important. It was a long time ago and I'm okay." America said loudly, interrupting Russia before he could finish. He would not put it past Penny to reformat her 'Kill-Pyrrha-Nikos' programming into a 'Murder-Yang-Xiao-Long-to-Death' protocol. America sighed, dragging a hand down his cheek and holding it at the crook of his neck and shoulder. It was starting to ache. "I guess I should talk to her."  _I didn't think she'd still feel guilty about_ _that_ _._

" _Of course she does."_  Vale said.  _"She almost_ _ **murdered**_ _you."_

_It. Was._ _ **Emerald**_ _._ America reminded her.

"Corner her tomorrow." Ruby suggested. "Yang's tired right now and she tends to explode more when she's like that."

"Are you insinuating she would hurt Alfred again?" Russia asked.

" _Again?_ " Penny asked darkly.

"It's fine, Penny." America said hurriedly. "No, she won't, Ivan. And sure, I'll do that. Thanks, Ruby."

"No problem." Ruby said.

She glanced at Penny and away, letting her dark hair fall over her eye. Penny stepped closer to— No, she stepped  _behind_  America. He sighed internally, then externally because this needed to  _stop_. Penny showed no sign of hearing his exasperation, but she stepped even closer to America. Was she trying to hide behind him? For real? He looked at her and she met his eyes, and there was  _definitely_  panic somewhere in her face. Then her expressions smoothed out and she stepped to the side, out from the safety of America's taller frame.

"Ruby Rose. I know there is a sixty-seven percent chance that you are tired after your mission but could you assist me in making the mashed potatoes for dinner?"

Ruby froze and her expression reminded America of a who had forgotten to study for an important test that would decide their future. Her jaw clicked shut and she nodded shakily. "S-Sure."

Penny smiled. It was only an upward twitch of her lips and looked a bit strange, like she was not sure how to adjust her musc— er, mechanisms or whatever, but it was an effort. "Thank you, Ruby Rose." She grasped Ruby's hand and pulled the startled girl towards the kitchen. "So you are aware, using weapons to chop potatoes is not allowed. It is not hygienic." Penny said seriously as she went.

That got a startled laugh out of Ruby and America knew they would be okay. He smiled, looking back at the others, who stared at him with varying expressions of amusement or consideration. "What?"

"Nothing." Canada said in a way that suggested there was definitely something.

America elbowed his twin in the ribs and he yelped, rubbing his side and smacking his hand away. America grinned and poked him again, and Canada shrieked, shoving him. Unprepared for the strength behind the push, America tripped over and smacked into Russia, catching himself on the larger nation's arm. A wave of dizziness washed over America and he faltered, clinging to Russia's arm as his legs shook. Canada went still.

" _Matthew_!" England snapped, and Penny and Ruby reappeared in the doorway.

He hurried to America but Penny reached him first, a tissue in her hand. America grasped it without comment, pressing it to his nose. He did not need to look to see the blood. Their expressions said it was there.

"It's fine." he said quickly. "This happens."

England's expression pinched while Canada—  _Damn it._  Mattie looked close to tears again.

America sighed and leaned against Russia's arm, patting it awkwardly. "Thanks for the save. Just… give me a sec."

Russia stared down at him mutely, a torn expression on his face. Was he appalled that his former rival was so weakened? Damn it, why did America have to get a nosebleed  _now_? This was  _not_  helping his case.

Penny grasped his arm and he pushed himself away from Russia, subtly pulling his limb from her grasp. She did not demand he let her help him, instead staying silently at his shoulder as he made it to the couch and sat—  _not_  collapsed— onto it. He closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened everyone was staring at him like they were at a funeral again. Oh  _look_. Even France and the other nations who did not go on the mission were there.

_And here comes the hovering. Yay_.

" _I'm sorry."_  Vale whispered.

Another pulse of pain lanced through America's head and he groaned, laying down on the couch. The southern village of Cherry Crossing was having Grimm troubles. Big surprise. Once he was certain he was not about to pass out, he opened his eyes again. Everyone was still there. To say America was  _not_  in the mood was an understatement. He shut his eyes again.

"I'm going to stay here a bit. Go do something other than watch me." America groused. He flapped a hand at them. "Shoo."

He did not hear footsteps. Without opening his eyes, America reached down and took off his shoe, chucking it at random. He was rewarded for his efforts with Jaune's yelp.

"Go away. I'm warning you: I have another shoe, and then I'm going to start throwing lightning." America growled, eyes still closed. "This is no worse than what we feel during a fire, or a headache for you normal people. Stop acting all dramatic."

There was a pause. America reached for his other shoe.

"Okay." Jaune said hurriedly. "We'll leave you to rest."

America heard their footsteps retreat, some more hastily than others. He relaxed, considering going to his more isolated, dark bedroom to try to dull the headache, but he was already settled here. He might as well stay. Someone lifted his feet and sat down on the end cushion, placing them on top of their legs.

America scowled. "My couch. I called it."

"Well I claim this seat." France said lightly.

America grumbled. "Tickle my feet and I'll zap you."

"Why would I ever do that?" France teased.

The couch creaked as he leaned back. Not trusting France to refrain from seeing if he was ticklish, America sat up and changed position, leaning against France's shoulder with his legs bent towards his other side.

"If you insist on sitting here, you might as well make yourself useful." he grumbled.

"Now you sound like Arthur." France chuckled. His voice lowered. "I know you are in more pain then you are letting on, Alfred."

America tensed. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you pressing your temple against my shoulder like you are trying to push the pain out of your skull?" France challenged.

America pressed his lips together. He tried to open his eyes but the light stabbed through his eyeballs and into his skull. He shut them, breathing evenly to stave off the nausea. "Is anyone else in here?"

"They are in the kitchen or in their rooms." France reported.

America hummed vaguely. "Good. And it doesn't hurt that much. I'm fine."

France sighed. "You are not weak if you admit you are in pain."

"This pain is nothing to cry about." America retorted. "I've felt worse. You have, too..." He trailed off. "How are you doing?"

"Alright. Sometimes I have trouble recalling things." France admitted.

"What things?"

"That I am out." France said softly.

America could not open his eyes to look at him. He settled for patting his arm. "Yes. You're out. You're free."

He had a feeling France was smiling. "So are you."

"I wasn't at the Institute that long."

"You were not." France agreed. "But you were with Polendina for quite some time. You have not spoken of what happened there."

America tensed. "I have too talked about it." he said and pretended the protest did not sound childish.

"Not in detail." France said, and only his calm tone kept America from standing up and leaving. Or snapping at him. Or both. France sighed. "How about this: You give me a detail about Polendina, I give a detail about the Institute in return. We can ask each other questions as well." His voice lowered. "It may help us both."

_Crap._  When he put it like that, America would be a jerk if he refused. "Sure. If you want to."

"After I was removed from our cell, I was mostly kept in isolation." France began quietly, and  _oh shoot_  he really  _did_ want to do this.

America's stomach twisted. "I was kept in isolation, too."

"Atlas would come in occasionally to… try to convince me I was Vacuo." France whispered. "She drugged me, and tried to make me forget my own language and history."

"Polendina just told me what an awful person I was." America said, and his voice cracked. "You know, the usual stuff. Threats to you, how I was cruel for not helping him, how I was selfish, and how no one was coming for me. He left a… a recording of Penny's fight with Pyrrha in my room once too. On repeat." He swallowed the bile in his throat. Yet while talking about it was uncomfortable, at the same time, it also felt strangely cathartic.

France patted his hair. "I insulted her in French." he said, and there was a hint of pride in his voice. "She did not like that very much."

"I couldn't talk." America admitted. "Polendina had me in a gag that wrapped around my head and had to be unlocked to get it off. He only removed it when he gave me food every once in a while. They never unlocked the manacles."

"I was never released from my bonds." France murmured. "They gave me a bedpan and doused me with a bucket of water on occasion."

"I think they hosed me down for the most part." America said. "I don't really know. They usually did that and put me in new clothes when I was unconscious."

"They drugged me." France repeated shakily. "Many… many times. It gave me hallucinations. I saw many things that were not there." He shuddered.

"I had a collar around my neck with a paralyzing drug in it." America whispered. "I was helpless if I tried to use Vale's Semblance or with the press of a button."

"They tortured me." France said at last, and his voice was completely toneless. There was a rustle of shifting cloth and America felt France's arm move. "They knew I could heal, so they had no limits. They broke my bones. They removed my nails, and my tongue if I became too impudent." He took a shuddering breath. "But I healed. And I am out."

America's shoulders burned. He pressed his forehead to France's shoulder, eyes still tightly closed. "...There was a soldier from the lab. He was fired after Mattie and I escaped. He blamed me for it, so he… he came in and..."

The deceptively relaxed feeling vanished and America could not force the words past the lump in his throat. How could he admit that he had not yet healed from a wound a  _human_  had given him? They already thought he was weak and incapable of taking care of himself. Would that knowledge prove it in their minds?

" _Based on their previous responses, most likely."_  Vale predicted and America's insides turned to ice.

"Alfred?" France asked. "What did he do?"

"He sliced me up a bit." America blurted, and it was not a lie. It was just not the whole truth. His back twinged, hot like burning coals. He winced. "Every day. For a while. Nowhere near as bad as you had it."

Which only made him more ashamed. France had been through worse but came out without a scar while America was left with wounds for the world to see. He sat up and shifted his coat self-consciously, pulling at the sleeves to make sure they were down. France could only see the bandages, right?

"What did you see when they drugged you?" he dared to ask as his question.

France's eyes glazed. "The deaths of those I love."

America shuddered. He grasped France's hand, patting it with his other one. "That wasn't real. We're all alive. And… we're out."

France slowly relaxed. "We are." he confirmed. "Thank you for doing this with me."

America's guilt multiplied tenfold. He chewed on his lip, eyes darting about. No one else was in the room, yet he felt like dozens of eyes were judging him for his dishonesty. Didn't he and Mattie promise not to keep secrets? That promise did not exactly extend to include France but the idea was the same. Secrets caused problems. America knew that. They were also currently in a village, where the risk of attracting Grimm with an emotional outburst was low. That luxury would soon be lost to America.

His face crumpled. "France?"

The older nation looked at him. Unsettled with the idea of being overheard, America leaned as close as he could to whisper in France's ear. "I'm not healed. The soldier's attack left scars. The… the wounds are still there."

France's eyes widened, and America wished he could vanish. That was impossible, so he braced himself for the disgust and pity that was inevitable.

"They aren't bleeding anymore, b-but they're scarred. He… He carved a word into my back. 'Sacrifice'." America smiled tremulously. "Isn't that so on the nose? It's what Remnant thinks I am. It's really pathetic when you think about it—"

France pulled him into a hug. America flinched, shrinking away, but registered who embraced—  _trapped_ — him just as quickly. He slowly relaxed, ashamed by the relief he felt at the contact.

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?" France asked.

"I'm a nation. A superpower. I should be better than this. It shouldn't affect me." America said, as if he did not already know.

France frowned at him. "We are not unfeeling ghosts. Why wouldn't you be affected?"

America shifted uncomfortably. "That's not what I meant. I… He was a  _human_. Yet he did  _that_  to me." He hesitated, momentarily smothered by his guilt. "And here I go again, making it all about me when you went through worse. I'm sorry."

France shook his head. "Why do you always insist on underplaying your troubles? You do not need to deny your trauma because others had it quote unquote 'worse'. And there is no shame in talking about it."

America slowly realized France must have gone through this type of conversation before. Of course he had. He had suffered a lot during his life. America's woes were paltry in comparison— and America was being self-centered  _again_. England and Canada would be so disappointed—

Something inside him  _cracked_  and tears welled up in his eyes. "I can't tell them." he hiccuped, and there was no need to clarify who he meant. "They already think I'm weak and if they know I let  _this_  happen..."

"Do not say that." France said sharply. "You did not 'let' that man do anything."

"But I  _did_." America said, choked up. "After Penny released me, he found me again. I wasn't paralyzed or anything but I let him shove me to the ground, and touch me, and rip off my shirt. He was already starting to carve me up again before I even  _tried_  fighting him off."

" _You did fight him off."_  Vale reminded him. Her voice sounded off, like she could barely force the words out.  _"So stop feeling sorry for yourself."_

America's stomach twisted. "You're right. I need to get over it."

"I never said that." France denied.

"But I've been harping on about it—"

"Have you?" France asked mildly. "Because you've only brought it up now."

"W-Well, yeah." America stammered. "But I've been thinking about it a lot. I shouldn't let it affect me so much."

"Why?" France pressed.

"I don't kn— Because I shouldn't." America finished lamely. He gripped his hair. "And I'm  _still_  talking about it. It's  _nothing_. It's not a big deal—"

"It is certainly not 'nothing' if it is burdening you so much." France said.

America's expression twisted. "You went through worse—"

"Stop." France said firmly. "This is not a contest for who had it worse off. You are allowed to feel hurt."

"No." America blurted. "I shouldn't—"

"Why?" France asked.

America glared at him. "Is that your favorite question?" he asked tiredly.

"When I'd like to know the answer." France said lightly.

"I—" America shook his head. "I shouldn't have said anything."

" _Isn't that the truth."_  Vale muttered.

"Why?" France asked again.

America glowered.

France chuckled but his smile soon faded. "Do you want to know something, Alfred?"

An uncomfortable feeling settled in America's stomach but he nodded. France listened to him when he blabbed on and on. He could at least listen to his words in return.

"I think you feel you deserved it." France said.

America recoiled, blindsided by the flatly-delivered statement. France eyed him neutrally and for the first time in a while America saw his real age in those sad blue eyes.

"I've seen those with your kind of thoughts, Alfred. I know of the desire to accept your circumstances and death rather than fight to live."

America's brow furrowed. "Are you…?"

"I am not speaking of myself." France said fiercely. "And there you go once more, worrying for others instead of seeing value in yourself. You have enough burdens. You need not bear mine as well. Others may smother you with their overprotective actions and grief but I will not." He raised a hand before America could speak. "That is,  _if_  you admit how hurt you are and speak with me. Please, if you cannot be open to Matthieu and Arthur, be open to Big Brother Francis."

He smiled, and America could see the man who raised the kindhearted Canada for so many years. He dropped his gaze and pushed away the thoughts that he was wasting France's time.

"Fine. I dese— feel I deserved it. I ran off like an idiot and you were captured because of my stupidity. I knew I was being hunted but I ran off anyway. I practically  _asked_  to be captured. I..." he swallowed. "I had a lot of time to think in that cell and I kept wanting to escape. Not just from there, but from… Vale." He felt Amber's rapt attention and chuckled wearily. "Did you know that Roman told me I am just a prize for everyone to fight over? I might as well be a trophy to pass around. I haven't done  _anything_  except walk into traps and get captured—"

"You saved me." France interjected.

"From a place you ended up in because of me." America retorted. He lowered his head. "Other than that, I'm  _useless_. 'Sacrifice' describes me perfectly." His voice grew softer. "Maybe it would be better if I died before anyone could use me to get the Relic."

Giving voice to the thought that had haunted him for a while was oddly freeing, but France's horrified stare smothered that feeling. America smiled. He knew it looked fake. "See how pathetic I really am? Can't save myself. Can't save others. Got captured and tortured over and over. Got scars from a human… I'm a real  _hero_." The sarcasm in the final word startled even him and he stared at his hands contemplatively. They trembled.

"I'm letting them win again and again." he admitted. "Because I let their actions leave marks. Everyone else is moving forward but I'm stuck in place gathering scars." His fingers curled. "How can I save anyone when I'm worthless?"

"You are  _not_  worthless." France said sharply.

America looked at him dully. "Then why don't I care that I'm going to die?"

France gaped at him wordlessly.

America rose from the couch and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're feeling better. I'm going to bed."

"But you haven't had dinner." France protested faintly, as if that was the only thing he could think to say.

"I'm not hungry." America claimed and hurried away.

He ended up in his room and was relieved to find it empty. He reached for his jacket but let his hands fall away from the zipper without touching it. Not bothering to change, America flopped down on the bed and curled up under the covers. His back stung, his head ached, and it finally hit him that his days were numbered. Instead of sadness or fear or anger, he felt oddly at ease. He was still Vale. He was still a prisoner, unable to do anything without his family's permission or oversight. He was still just a  _thing_  to be captured or protected.

Maybe it was time he accepted that.

XXXXXXX

When Francis crashed into the kitchen at breakneck speeds, nearly smacking a pan off the counter in the process, Ruby's heart sank. Matthew reached for Maple Frost and Arthur held a kitchen knife at the ready, but it soon became apparent there was no threat to fight. Ruby put down the potato peeler Penny had handed her when she entered the room and hastily brushed off her hands. She did not want to get potato on Crescent Rose.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Francis looked at Matthew. "Alfred appears to have skipped most of the stages of grief." he said faintly.

Matthew paled. "Where has he landed?"

Francis shrugged helplessly. "I spoke to him to try to get him to open up but I fear that I caused more harm than good. Rather than find strength, Alfred has accepted that bad things will happen to him so he may as well let it." He put a hand to his forehead. "Mon dieu, what have I done?"

"He's  _given up_?!" Arthur set down his kitchen knife with a  _clack_  and raced for the door.

Matthew intercepted, arms outstretched to prevent Arthur from leaving. "Don't. He won't want to see you."

"Too bloody bad." Arthur snarled. "The idiot cannot lay there and  _wait to die._ "

Matthew's violet eyes dulled. "He certainly can."

Arthur flinched but ground his teeth. "That's a load of  _rubbish_. He has gone through worse. Why should this be—?"

Francis's hands slammed onto the countertop with an audible thud, making the pot on the stove rattle. "Do not say such things." he hissed. "Don't dismiss his trauma and say he shouldn't  _feel_ —" He paused and shook his head. "This is due to more than Vale's decay. Whatever he is feeling has likely been building for a long time, since he was in that lab."

"What can we do?" Penny asked quietly.

Ruby had almost forgotten she was there. Or perhaps she was trying to ignore her because even with the ponytail and different way of moving and speaking and acting the robot  _still_  looked like her friend—

"Watch Alfred and try to get him out of his slump." Ruby offered before her thoughts could spiral.

"I fear this is more than a 'slump'." Matthew murmured.

Arthur growled, running a hand through his hair angrily. "Foolish boy. Always trying to fix others while he lets himself fall apart."

"He did not 'let' anything happen." Francis said testily, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest.

Arthur's glare crumbled into a wounded expression. "He told you something he has not told us."

"Oui." Francis confirmed.

"I… see." Arthur said like the words were strangling him.

"Watching over him will not fix the problem." Penny said, fingers twitching.

"I'm going to talk some sense into him." Arthur declared. He shoved past Matthew and out the room.

"There is a ninety-eight percent chance this will not end well." Penny said.

Ruby could not disagree.

XXXXXXX

Barely five minutes passed before a sharp rap pulled America from his numb stupor. He huddled under the covers, vaguely remembering weeks of Mattie doing the same. It was almost funny in a dark kind of way. The twins were so different, yet when they were dying they did their best to hide away from the others so they would not suffer with them. America hated himself for copying his twin but what else could he do? There was no ritual to save him. He should let things happen as he always did lately.

" _Just go to sleep."_  Vale said tiredly.

_I'm trying._

Another sharp rap snapped him out of his daze.

"Alfred, I'm coming in." a muffled voice called.

America cringed. England was the last person he wanted to see right now. He pulled his blankets over his head and heard the door creak open, then click shut. Footsteps approached and the bed dipped when England sat on the edge. America waited for the lecturing, insults, and ranting. He knew he was being stupid and giving up too easily. He did not need England to tell him. Surprisingly the Brit did not start berating him. Instead he sat in silence for a long time. A hand landed softly on the blanket covering America's head.

"Please let me see you." England requested.

America did not reply. Instead he sat up and let the blanket fall off of him. His jacket followed, and he slipped off his shirt.

"Alfred, what—"

England's voice died in his throat when America removed the bandages, revealing the jagged red scars across his shoulders.  **SACRIFICE.** He crossed his arms over his chest and kept his head bowed, even when England gasped.

"What  _is this?_ "

"Ironwood asked that too." America murmured.

" _Ironwood_?" England demanded.

America did not answer. "It's been weeks. It won't go away." he said instead.

He heard England gasp as he comprehended what that meant. "Oh, Alfred..."

And there was the sadness. The  _pity_. America was too tired to hate it. He kept his head down, waiting patiently for England to do…  _something_. He was not sure what he expected from his older brother. Pity? Mockery? Scorn? Disgust that America was marred by yet another permanent reminder of what he let Remnant do to him—?

The door creaked but it was too late to hide. The identity of the newcomer did not remain a secret long as America recognized Canada's horrified cry. He focused on the bedspread instead of looking at his brothers.

"See? I can't even heal right anymore." he said before Canada could speak. "I don't know why I was so surprised it scarred. I gave up before that."

"Al, you didn't—" Canada began.

"The lab. Ozpin's faction. Kuroyuri. New York City. And here." America brushed a hand over his shoulder, hardly feeling the sting. "The soldier didn't even need to drug me the last time. I let him do what he wanted. I only fought back when Vale screamed at me to. And then I gave up  _again_  when Ironwood got me. So why  _bother_?" His voice cracked. "I have to be saved all the time anyway so why not lay down and let myself be dragged around from prison to prison? I know I said I wanted to fight but what's the  _point_? What's the point of  _any_  of this? We just have to wait for me to die and Ozpin will win."

"Don't say that." Canada said tearfully.

"Why not?" America asked, more out of obligation than a desire for an answer. "It's not like we can stop it."

"You truly have given up." England said.

America recognized his tone and braced himself. On cue, England stood and stormed towards the door. America lowered his head so he did not have to watch him go.

"Fine." England spat. " _Fine_. Just— Just  _give up_. Just  _sit there_  and wait to die. I'm not going to stand here and watch while you—"

He halted in front of the door and turned around, stalking back towards the bed. America shut his eyes, clasping his hands together so he wouldn't shield his face. The last thing he expected was for warm arms to wrap around him.

"…No.  _No_. I'm not leaving you alone again." England said.

"Neither am I." Mattie vowed.

America's brow furrowed. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice distant to his own ears. "You're wasting your time..."

"I think we get to decide what counts as 'wasting time'." England sniffed.

America did not understand. When England was angry at America, he avoided him or yelled at him. When England was angry at him, Canada sided with England or tried to convince the two to make up. Why was this time different? This was all wrong. What was going on?

"But there's nothing you can do." he mumbled. "And I deserve it after all the mistakes I made."

"Did _I_  deserve it?" Canada asked.

" _No_." America said instantly. "Never."

"Then why do you?" his twin asked gently.

"I'm more trouble than I'm worth—" America told them.

"We already discussed that." England said.

"I made stupid decisions that got us into this mess—"

"Atlas and Salem are to blame, not you."

"But I ran away after the ritual. I didn't trust you. I walked into a trap because I overreacted." America reminded them.

"I tried to trick you." England shot back.

"But you had good intentions." America protested.

"I still took advantage of your mental state." England retorted. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

America did not know what to say.

" _...Maybe you should listen."_  Vale said.  _"They… are staying with you. Even now. Mayb— They_ _ **won't**_ _abandon you."_

She spoke as if she could hardly believe it herself, but it was too little too late. America was not convinced.

"But… Why are you bothering? I don't… I don't know if I can live anymore." he said hollowly.

Mattie stiffened.

A muscle in England's jaw quivered. "Do you want to die?" he asked, a slight tremor to his voice.

America considered the question. "I don't want to go through  _that_  again. Being captured. Imprisoned.  _Tortured_. If I could, I'd choose death so none of you could be hurt when I inevitably broke."

Canada wheezed, and America recognized the sound of stifled hysteria. He could not comfort his brother when he himself felt so numb.

"Don't you understand?" he asked, and could not pretend his voice did not crack. "If Salem gets me, I'll break and she'll  _win_. It's better to die before I fall into Salem's hands."

"No it bloody well  _isn't_." England hissed, and  _there_  was the anger America was expecting. "That's  _bollocks_. Salem will not get her hands on you."

"You can't promise that." America said gently. He opened his mouth but shut it without saying more. If he requested a sleeping spell now, England would take it the wrong way.

Canada abruptly grabbed America's discarded shirt and threw it at him. "Put that on. We're going somewhere." he said. "Arthur, stay here."

Unease slithered in America's stomach at Canada's authoritative tone. His soft-spoken twin rarely talked like that, and when he did, it was best to listen. England frowned but obeyed with obvious reluctance. America hesitantly put his shirt over his head and let Canada drag him out of the room, the building, and into the streets, past civilians going about their lives.

For a moment, America thought Canada was taking him back to the hospital. His heart sank into his shoes at the thought of endless exams and drugs and doctors and needles because  _Oh God_   _did Mattie think he was broken?_  but then his twin veered down an unfamiliar road. America could almost breathe again.

Canada stopped outside a rickety apartment building with worn bricks and opened the door, yanking his twin through. America might recoil from the rough manhandling but this was  _Mattie_  and Mattie would never hurt him  _ever_. The place was old and musty, barely on the nicer end of seedy, but Canada walked through it without fear, pulling America the whole way. He halted in front of a door with peeling green pain and knocked twice. A few seconds passed before a lock clicked and the door swung open.

"Hey, Matt—  _Thank you!_ "

A multicolored blur flew at America, slamming into him. He winced and froze in place, blinking down at the unfamiliar orange-haired girl hugging him.

" _Thank you thank you thank you!_ " she repeated and America belatedly noted the pink cat tail flicking behind her. "Guys,  _Alfred_  is here!" She called over her shoulder before turning back to him. "Blaze is inside. He'd love to see you. Come in. I'm Neon by the way. Blaze's sister."

_...Who the heck is Blaze?_

America nodded wordlessly but allowed Neon to yank him inside. Canada followed at his own pace and shut the door, locking it behind him.

" _What is happening?"_  Vale asked, bewildered.

Two male Faunus and another teen entered the room before America could voice the question. Upon spotting a trumpet at the teen's hip, he recognized him as Flynt from the Vytal Festival Tournament, while the first Faunus was an unfamiliar, grizzled man with cat ears.

The second Faunus was the one from the Institute.

"...Blaze?" America guessed.

The Faunus smiled. "In the flesh."

America's brow furrowed. "You're better."

Indeed, the Faunus had healed. His face was fuller, no longer sporting the hollow, gaunt look he'd had in the Institute. His skin a more healthy color, having regained a light, brownish tan. Most glaringly, his tail was perfectly mended, swaying lightly behind him.

"Thanks to you." Blaze said warmly.

He hesitated before sweeping America into a hug that rivaled Neon's. Having a stranger hug him should bother America, but instead he felt oddly at ease. It was still kind of weird though, though that weirdness came more from America's bewilderment—  _What is going on?_ — than the hug itself.

America patted the Faunus's shoulder and looked around uncertainly. "I… don't..."

"I'm sorry I didn't call to say we were coming." Canada interrupted. "To be blunt, Alfred was a bit in the dumps so we came here." His voice became flat. "He feels guilty for surviving so I thought seeing you might make him feel better."

America recoiled, gaping at his twin. How could Canada say that to these people? His brother was usually more tactful. Not to mention these people were practically strangers, at least to America. The Faunus family did not seem to mind Canada's lack of tact.

Blaze's arms tightened around America. "I heard about your injuries. You were really brave, fighting those… those  _monsters_  like that. I'm so glad you survived. You saved my life."

America faltered. "But… I..." He looked helplessly at his twin but Mattie only stared back calmly.

"Yeah, you saved my bro."Neon added. "You're our hero. Thank you, Alfred."

She darted forward, and America found himself squished between the two siblings. It did not bother him as much as he thought it should. He noticed Flynt smiling while their father watched with a soft look and happy tears in his eyes. Meeting America's gaze, the man nodded, tipping his head in thanks. America did not know what to say. He still caused a lot of problems for a lot of people but looking at this family, those mistakes did not seem so overwhelming anymore. He briefly considered his advice to Oscar. Maybe he should start following it, too.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Neon asked abruptly, pulling away. "Dad, can they?"

"We don't want to intrude." America mumbled.

"Nonsense." their father said. "You're more than welcome."

America smiled thinly. "Thanks."

He texted Kiku to tell him where they were and helped set the table. Away from those with the lingering knowledge of Salem, America's issues, and his potential death, America found himself fully relaxing for the first time in a while. As he sat down at the table, Canada leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Still think you're more trouble than you're worth?" he asked.

"Maybe not." America murmured.

Mattie's eyes softened. "You're going to get through this."

"I'll try my best." was all America could promise.

Canada accepted that and they settled down for the meal. For a little while, America was not Vale, or a sacrifice, or a victim, or a living, breathing mistake. He was Alfred, and to this family, he was a hero.

For now, that was enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating a day early because I won't be able to update tomorrow.
> 
> I'm going to say this here. One talk isn't going to make America's issues go away. All the baggage loaded onto him throughout the series is dragging him down and leaking out and it's going to take more than a chat and a couple good vibes to get him back on his feet. Why am I so adamant about this? Let me tell you a little story. I always had an inkling America would eventually reach this point, but at first I was not sure if I wanted to do it. I mean, would people be okay with it? Would they find it out of place? Did I want to write that kind of plotline?
> 
> And then I saw Volume 5 chapter 11.
> 
> "If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter." - Jaune, when he is at Cinder's mercy and (as far as he knows) maybe about to die by her hand.
> 
> In other words, it's hinted Jaune has developed a martyr complex and sees no value in his own life. As I'm writing this, Volume 6 isn't out yet. But I have a feeling that this will not be handled like it arguably should, because it rarely ever is. Either Jaune will "feel differently" after a single chat or this sequence won't be brought up at all because they won't give Jaune the amount of screen-time required for more than that.
> 
> That scene finally motivated me to write this plot because damn it all if a character is so depressed and low on self-worth that they feel like their life has no value, a little pep talk isn't going to bring them out of it and their self-worth issues shouldn't be brushed under the rug and forgotten. I am so sick and tired of this kind of thing being treated like a small issue that can be fixed with an inspirational speech and a band-aid, if it's acknowledged at all. No. I'm not doing that. If you're going to traumatize your characters and have them see no value in their lives, how about you show the affects of their trauma and show them healing instead of brushing it aside?
> 
> That was a bit of a rant but it's a trend I've noticed a lot lately: trauma and self-worth issues with little if any after-affects or impact on the characters and story. It gives the implication the characters were tormented just for The Drama, and I'm so freaking tired of it.
> 
> *calming breath*


	5. Trying Not to Drown

America was not looking forward to returning to their apartment. So much so that he almost let the Katts and Flynt convince him and Canada to stay at their place for the night. Canada declined before he could say yes and so the twins began the walk home. Hoping to extend the short trip to forever and a day, America dragged his feet, kicking a stone as he went. A cloak of misery weighed down on his shoulders, doing its best to take the strength from his limbs and send him crumpling to the ground, but he persevered, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and kicking the stone.

_How angry do you think they're going to be?_

" _Angry?"_ Vale commented.  _"Unlikely. Overbearing? Very likely."_

America sighed.

"What are you thinking about?" Canada asked.

"How the others are going to react." America admitted.

"You don't have to tell them." Canada reassured him.

It almost took too much energy to even look at him. "Maybe I should." America mumbled. "Grimm, remember?"

Canada winced. "That's true. But… don't force yourself to be happy for their sakes."

"I wasn't going to." America lied.

Canada shot him a knowing look.

America looked away. "I can't let them know this got to me. I'm supposed to be strong."  _And heroic._

"You are strong." Canada assured him.

_Am I?_   _If I was, you wouldn't have to say it._  America did not voice the statement.

Canada noticed his lack of a response and looked pained. His expression reminded America of something, and he unwittingly recalled a dark cell and that same, sorrowful expression in the aftermath of his 'deal' with Ironwood.

"I may be messed up but I'm glad you're still okay." America blurted. "It makes it worth it."

Canada looked torn.

America guessed his thoughts and winced. "Don't blame yourself." he warned his twin.

"Hypocrite." Canada said, deceptively light.

They continued on in silence. Dark had fallen hours ago, and the streets were mostly empty. America felt a jolt of panic before he remembered they were not in Atlas anymore. There were no curfews to be broken and no soldiers to assault them.

"I need a vacation." America said at last.

"We'll get one when this is over." Canada promised.

"I'd just like to go to your house." America admitted. "It's peaceful there. Quiet. Except for the geese. Those things are evil incarnate."

Canada chuckled.

Something clattered in a dark alleyway. Panic grasped America's throat and he grabbed Canada's hand and pulled him down the street in a run. Canada did not fight him, deploying Maple Frost as ice crackled up his arms. No one gave chase but neither twin relaxed until they were inside their building.

As the door shut behind them, America laughed shakily. "We just ran at a  _noise_."

"Hey, alleyways are the portals to hell." Canada claimed.

"Agreed." America said, and they exchanged strained grins.

Once their heartbeats slowed they returned to their apartment. Canada unlocked and opened the door to reveal almost everyone in the living area. Even Oscar, Winter, and Yang were there.

America froze in the doorway and planted on a smile. "Uh. Is this a surprise party? It's not my birthday."

"Al." Canada said flatly.

America let his smile fall. "Sorry I worried you guys."

"You didn't—" Japan paused. "Yes, you did."

America cringed.

"Are you okay?" Italy asked, hurrying over to him and gripping his hands.

"I'm… not as bad." America said, unable to lie to him.

Italy nodded. "Okay. It can take a while to get a little better so don't rush yourself."

"...Okay." America parroted uncomfortably. What did France and England tell everyone?

"Alfred F. Jones. I must speak with you." Penny said suddenly.

She walked up to him and grabbed his hand, pulling it. America resisted only a moment before letting her guide him out of the living area and into the room he shared with his brothers. Canada followed after, and after giving him a piercing stare, Penny ignored him, apparently content with his presence.

"You are upset." she told America. "Initiating proper response protocol."

She lifted her arms and hugged him. America twitched, caught off guard, but returned the embrace. Her arms were surprisingly warm, for a being made of metal covered in synthetic skin and all. Penny did not release him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I was informed of your distress. Hugging causes the body to produce oxytocin, helping to calm the nervous system, create relaxation, reduce blood pressure and heart stress." she said seriously. "It can also help decrease depression in some instances."

America grimaced. "I'm not depre—"

"Symptoms of depression include: prolonged feelings of worthlessness, lack of interest in usual hobbies, breakdowns and crying episodes, sleeping too much or being unable to sleep, unexplained pains, changes in appetite, irritability, restlessness, headaches, cramps, difficulty concentrating, anxiety, and recurrent thoughts of death." Penny reported. "I was informed of your current distress and compiled it with prior instances. Based on the available data, and how those symptoms persistence over the time period of longer than two weeks, you  _are_  depressed."

"Your analysis is incorrect. I'm not…  _that_." America said stubbornly. "I'm just a bit down in the dumps. I can't be d-dep— be  _that_. We have two worlds to save. I don't have time to—"

Penny's brow furrowed and she reached out, gripping his hand and startling him into silence. "I am here for you." she said.

America's face twisted and he almost felt nauseous. "Penny, no. Thank you but—  _no_. Please don't do this."

She frowned at him, squeezing his fingers. " _I am here for you._ "

"...Thanks." America mumbled. "But I'm fine. Really—" Canada stared at him and he amended his statement. "I'll  _be_ fine. I'll bounce back before we hit the road."

Penny frowned. "It is not recommended that you give yourself an unrealistic timetable for improvement. Failing to meet that goal may deepen your dep—"

"I'm  _not_  depressed." America snapped.

"Failing to meet that goal may worsen your current mindset." Penny amended smoothly.

America knew what she meant to say. "I'm  _not_ —" Two pairs of equally disbelieving eyes scrutinized him and he gave up. "Believe what you want. Whatever."

Penny hugged him again. America sighed but hugged her back. He had to admit that it felt nice. Penny may be blunt but she would not look down on him for this. Mattie would not judge him for being clingy either, right? Unlike some people.

His stomach tried to fold in on itself. "What do the others know?"

"That you're having a bit of trouble after everything you've been through." Canada said.

_Great. They know I'm a liability_. America thought. The heavy weight returned to his shoulders and he sighed. "I'll try not to attract Grimm." he said tiredly.

"That's not the point and you know it." Canada said sternly. "Do you want to go talk to them?"

"Sure." America said. As if he had any other choice.

"Don't force yourself to smile." Canada reminded him.

America hummed vaguely. His lips twisted and he was suddenly unsure what he was supposed to do with them. He caught a glimpse of his expression in the bedroom mirror and averted his gaze.  _Wow_ , he looked exhausted. And pale. And… fragile.

_I'm not fragile. I just really need that vacation. Too bad it's impossible._

" _We're short on time."_  Vale agreed softly.

A shudder went through America and he curled up, clutching at his stomach. It stopped trying to twist in on itself and instead attempted to crawl out of his mouth. He put a hand to his lips and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Al?" Canada questioned.

"I  _can't_." America said faintly, unable to say more.

Thankfully, Canada understood. "Okay. I'll tell them you're asleep."

America nodded and stumbled over to the bed as his twin walked out. Penny shoved his pajamas at him before he could reach it. Moving on autopilot, America put the sleeping garments on and collapsed onto the sheets. Shivering, he pulled the blankets up over his head. He heard Canada come back in.

"Sorry I made them wait around for nothing." America whispered before his twin could speak.

"They don't mind." Canada assured him.

"I'm sorry I caused drama."

"You didn't."

"I'm sorry I'm like this."

"It's okay. I know you're trying your hardest." Canada said, not understanding the full meaning of his words.

_Then my hardest_ _ **isn't good enough**_ _._ America thought but did not say. "I'll be better soon." he vowed, and the so-called promise sounded weak even to himself.

"Don't force it." Canada said firmly. "You do not have to smile for our sakes."

_Then what am I supposed to do?_

America nodded and rolled onto his side so his back was to his twin and Penny. He kept his head covered, motivated by the futile hope that they would think he was asleep. They would not be tricked, but maybe they'd pity him enough to not call him out on it. Unable to sleep, America began bouncing ideas off of a mostly-unresponsive Vale. He had a feeling recovery would not come so easily.

He hoped he could figure out how to fake it at least.

XXXXXXX

In the suffocating silence, Pyrrha was only one of many who stared at the closed bedroom door like it would grant them all the answers. The thin slab of wood gave them nothing at all except a barrier to keep them out.

Pyrrha had seen Alfred when he was vulnerable. When he remembered his vivisection at the hands of the Atlas scientists, when it was revealed he was being followed, when he found out what England's ritual did, among other nerve-wracking instances. She had an inkling a breakdown may come, but even with that precognition, she was thrown for a loop when the time arrived. With the weight of two worlds on his shoulders, it was inevitable Alfred would falter. She just did not think it would happen  _here and now_.

Ivan sighed. "So Alfred has finally crumbled." he murmured, voice tinged with disappointment.

"Don't say that." Yang snapped.

Not intimidated by her glowing red eyes, Ivan raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why are you surprised?" Arthur said tonelessly before the large nation could reply. "He went through a hell where he was treated like an  _object_  and not a person. He was tortured, kidnapped, experimented on, abused, manipulated, and essentially murdered.  _Repeatedly_. And I bet they tried to drill into his head how worthless he was so he'd be more compliant—"

"Stop, please." Pyrrha requested, knuckles white.

Jaune put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. The knight was pale, eyes glazed as he stared into the distance. "How bad are we thinking?" he asked quietly.

"Bad." was all Francis said.

A shiver went through Jaune. "Rooftop bad?"

Pyrrha remembered a small comment made on a rooftop back in Beacon that quickly turned horrifying and shuddered. Later, Jaune had confided in her how family members in smaller towns would sometimes give their kin an extra emotional push to  _permanently_  stop their depression from attracting Grimm. Not that those pushes were always needed in the first place. Her skin crawled and she gripped Jaune's hand where it rested near her shoulder.

"I doubt it." she said, for him and herself. "It would not work for him anyway."

Kiku shot her a sharp look, perhaps suspecting what she was talking about.

Oscar's eyes turned gold. "Do not despair, students." Ozpin said softly. "You all have gone through many hardships and overcome them. Alfred is strong. He will certainly do the same." Ozpin's eyes darkened. "He must or—"

"Please choose your next words carefully." Kiku interrupted coolly.

Ozpin's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"While the intention behind your words are encouraging, I take issue with how they pertain to Alfred-kun." Kiku stated levelly. "The damage done cannot be willed away. Do not try to force him to recover because he ' _must_ '." The final word was spoken with the cold sharpness of metal sword.

"I apologize." Ozpin murmured.

Kiku studied him for a tense moment before nodding.

"Um. Not to sound insensitive but how do we treat him?" Nora asked, uncharacteristically nervous. "I mean, I know we're trying not to say it but Alfred looked pretty depressed. As in the long-lasting kind of depressed.  _Really_ depressed."

Yang flinched, grabbing her right arm. An aura of discomfort settled over the room. Pyrrha could not say whether she wanted to assuage their fears or join them in their morose contemplation. Romano— Pyrrha had heard his country name so many times she could not easily think of him as Lovino— huffed and crossed his arms, an irritated snarl on his face.

"Here's an idea. How about you  _treat him normally_?" he snapped. "If you treat him like a fragile little flower he'll just feel worse,  _dumbasses_."

They shifted awkwardly, unsettled— or perhaps shamed— by his burning glare. Romano snorted and muttered something in Italian. It must not have been complimentary for Feliciano gaped at him, aghast.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Blake asked hesitantly.

" _Yes_." Romano emphasized. He leaned back, scowl in place. "You shouldn't be involved in this."

"What's  _that_  supposed to mean?" Weiss growled.

Romano ignored her. Feliciano hovered at his brother's side, hands twitching like he wanted to touch his brother but was not sure his comfort would be welcomed. Recalling what she had been told and had seen of Romano's personality, Pyrrha did not begrudge him for his harshness. She did, however, worry because it was directed at people he would normally treat with utmost respect and perhaps flirtation. If Kiku's frown was any indication, he had noticed the discrepancy as well.

"There's nothing we can do right now. We might as well go to bed." Arthur said abruptly. He stood up, brushing a hand over his eyes. "Jett and I will need to sleep in your room, Francis."

Francis did not make a single lewd comment. "Of course."

They wandered away a couple at a time, leaving the eight former students behind. Looking at the members of Teams JNPR and RWBY, Pyrrha had to wonder if she had missed a suggestion to stay, or if they simply functioned on the same wavelength.

Yang sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "So. That was a thing."

"That's all you have to say?" Blake asked tiredly.

"No." Yang said. Her eyes dulled to a faint blue and she did not continue.

"Do you think Alfred will attract Grimm?" When they glared at Nora, she only shrugged. "Someone had to say it."

"I doubt it." Yang said. "Despite what some people in isolated towns believe, one person's depression does not bring in Grimm."

"How do you know?" Weiss asked.

Yang shrugged, gripping her robotic right arm. "Just... don't try to force him to be 'better'—" Pyrrha heard the quotation in her tone. "—and don't  _expect_  him to be. It  _won't_  help him. Not now. You can try to give him a push later on, but doing that now will only make him more closed off. Or it could make him worse."

She spoke with the gravity of someone who knew what they were talking about. Pyrrha wondered where her knowledge was coming from, then recalled how Taiyang had reacted to Summer Rose's death.

Then Blake's ears drooped and she stared at her partner with round, guilty eyes. Her arms lifted, pressing to her chest in a fetal-like way as her mouth opened. "I'm s—"

"Don't, Blake." Yang interrupted sharply. "It's in the past. I recovered. We moved on."

Oh. Yang was  _not_  talking about her father. Ruby bit her lip, glancing down. Pyrrha shifted awkwardly, disconcerted by the private conversation she found herself witnessing. But Blake did not continue it. Nor did Yang.

"Let's just try to act normally, like Lovino said." Ruby offered. She quivered, expression twisting with remorse, but kept speaking. "Lovino is right. Treating Alfred like he's damaged or dying won't help him. Or us."

"This isn't going to be easy." Jaune admitted. "I can't stop thinking about what might happen."

Ruby grasped his hand, grabbing one of Yang's as well. "We're going to get through this. Alfred's…  _problems_ , Salem, Vale, the Relics… all of it. We're going to be okay, as long as we stick together."

"Right." Weiss agreed firmly.

"Okay." Jaune said with less conviction.

Blake's ears flattened further and she stared at her lap. Her jaw tensed, her lips twisting, and Pyrrha thought she might cry. She abruptly relaxed, and her back straightened. She glanced at Ren and nodded once in thanks, with neither vocally acknowledging the ninja's actions. Pyrrha did not either. It was Blake's right not to want to cry in front of them.

"Regardless of what happens, Arthur is right." Weiss said abruptly. "We should go to sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be… long."

"Who wants to bet everything goes wrong?" Nora asked.

"Please don't joke about that." Jaune groaned.

"Too late." Ruby muttered.

They separated, heading into their rooms. Pyrrha took her time getting into her bed, glancing at the wall that separated her from America. Jaune noticed her glances and reached across the empty space between their beds, grasping her hand briefly. He did not speak, and neither did she, but she saw some of the tension in his shoulders relax. He let go of her hand and turned over, but she did not hear his breathing become even in sleep. Unsure of what to say, Pyrrha lay on her back and stared at the ceiling.

She knew none of them would be getting much sleep tonight.

XXXXXXX

It was morning.

Actually, it was late morning.

Almost noon, which could barely be considered 'morning'.

Yet America was still in bed.

He lay on his side, facing his twin's bed. Canada slept, peaceful and oblivious after hours of tossing and turning that made his sheets rustle and told America his twin was still awake long into the night. England and Australia's beds were empty. They were never used. America added 'driving them away' to his growing list of insecurities and guilt, and almost had to laugh at himself for being so damn insecure. A part of him knew those insecurities were unfounded but that did not stop them from plaguing his mind as he stared at the ceiling of his room.

At least Penny's presence came with minimal self-doubts. She sat on the edge of his bed in silence, facing the wall rather than him. Occasionally, she would touch his arm, either to reassure him she was still there or perhaps to reassure herself he was fine. When the silent expanse of the room became too much, America shuffled over so his back was pressed against hers. She did not comment. Neither did he. He continued to watch Canada's chest rise and fall.

He was not alone. He was not in Atlas. Atlas was dead. She could not hurt him anymore.

Yet here he was, laying in bed and silently waiting to die with the nation that had been forced inside him, just like Canada had.

A lance of pain tore through his head and he reached up, wiping at his nose. America lowered his arms and stared at his hands, barely seeing them. They were trembling, he realized, the right smeared with red. Penny grabbed his left hand and he clung to her fingers, knowing he would not break them like he might a human's. Her hair was loose around her face, not in the ponytail she had worn for the past couple days. America could not find the energy to even help her with her hair. He should feel guilty about it. He just felt tired.

He did not get up, and she did not break her silent vigil.

Canada slept on, oblivious.

At two-thirty eight in the afternoon, the door opened.

Ruby poked her head inside, and the unnerved look on her face pierced through America's apathetic haze. He thought about sitting up but instead stayed where he was, watching her approach. The girl did so in quick, hurried steps, tiptoeing despite knowing about Canada's ability to sleep through the apocalypse. Ruby glanced hesitantly at Penny before leaning close to America's ear.

"Alfred, you need to get up." she hissed. "Your doctor is here. He wants to see you."

_What?!_ Despite his alarm, America still did not move, staring at her dully.

"I'm sorry." Ruby said, clearly distressed. "Nora didn't look through the peephole before she answered the door. We wouldn't have answered if we knew it was him." Her kind face grew unnaturally hard. "Do you want me to scare him off?" she asked in a very Nora-like way.

America shook his head and sat up, feeling as if there were thousands of pounds of rock laying on his chest. Penny had already grabbed his day clothes and took hold of Ruby's arm, pulling her out of the room. America stared at the closed door before considering his pajamas. He lethargically took them off and changed, and every movement seemed to drain him of energy. What was the point? He'd just put the pajamas back on later.

Maybe he should have allowed Ruby to chase Doctor Charon away. The man would obviously see America was not doing well. Oh God would he try to bring him back to the hospital?

The thought was enough for America to go to the mirror, practicing a smile as he fixed his hair. He looked…  _bad_. The dark shadows under his eyes were back, his skin was ghostly pale, and his eyes were glassy. He rubbed at them and considered his hair, deigning it a lost cause. He exited the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and nearly ran into Weiss.

The former heiress scrutinized him, looking him up and down, and frowned. America could practically see the comments lurking behind her thinned lips. Weiss reached up and did something with his hair, patting it down.

"You look fine." she said, but America had trouble believing her.

"Thanks." he mumbled anyway.

Weiss stepped aside, hurrying into the kitchen. America spotted the rest of her team plus Penny and Japan in there. All of them were at the counters, glancing towards the living area out of the corners of their eyes. Doctor Charon stood near the doorway, hands clasped in front of him with a tablet hanging from his fingers. He looked to the doorway as America entered and smiled.

"Alfred." Solemn eyes studied him. "How are you feeling?"

The doctor probably knew the truth, but America grinned, acutely aware of his bedraggled appearance. "I'm great." He fiddled with his sleeve, looking around the living area. "I wasn't expecting you here. Do you come to visit all of your patients?"

"Only the ones I'm most worried about." Charon said, and America cringed. The doctor adjusted his tie. "I have a couple more questions for you, I'm afraid. Is there somewhere more private we can speak?"

America saw Penny stiffen. "Sure." he said, before the robotic girl could confront the doctor. He looked around, mind going blank as he failed to remember the layout of their accommodations. "Uh..."

"The study is empty." Japan said, coming to his rescue.

"That will suffice." Charon said pleasantly.

Japan led them to the study and held the door open. His dark eyes followed the doctor as he entered before turning to America.

"We will be right outside." was all he said, but America could hear the warning directed at the Atlas man.

America smiled weakly and shut the door behind him. The study was tiny, with only a couple chairs around a small desk in the center of the room. At least the window provided some natural sunlight to make the small space seem more open. If not for the bumps in the faded blue carpet where the table's legs once resided next to the wall, America might question the layout designers sanity.

" _Worry about your own sanity."_  Vale said.  _"I wouldn't put it past the doc to psychoanalyze you. If he realizes how bad you are he might force you to return to the hospital."_

America repressed a shudder and waited until Charon sat in a chair to do the same. "You said you had more questions?" he asked carefully.

"I'm afraid so." Charon said. "Because of… recently acquired evidence, we need to ask for some additional information. Some of the questions will be uncomfortable, but we need the full story."

America shifted, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Are you a doctor or an investigator?" he asked.

"Both." Charon said simply. "It comes with my line of work. We not only go to assist places in the midst of a tragedy, but try to figure out how and why it happened."

America hummed noncommittally. Charon pulled a small device out of his coat pocket and set it on the table between the. It looked like a tiny white box with a few lights on top.

"This will record what you say. It's more accurate than writing it down." he lowered his voice. "It may also make it so you do not need to appear in person later."

America wished he could be that lucky. "Okay."

Charon nodded and pressed a button on the device. A blue light turned on and America felt his stomach curdle. If he made a dive for the window would the doctor stop him?

" _Yes."_  Vale said flatly, and America mentally sighed.

Charon leaned back, tablet in hand. "Besides Ironwood, you were attacked by other soldiers of Atlas outside of the Institute, correct?"

"Yes." America said. He paled. "I mean—"

Charon raised a placating hand. "Alfred, it is alright. I promise you that you will not get into trouble for telling me. We are not in Atlas anymore."

_That's not exactly the problem._  America smiled nervously. "O-Okay. I uh— I keep expecting people not to believe me... or to arrest me."  _Or to get confirmation that I'm weak—_ _ **Stop**_ _feeling sorry for yourself you stupid selfish fucking_ _ **idiot**_ _—_

Charon's expression darkened. "That is understandable. You are not the only one who feels that way. But I assure you that you are safe here. The soldiers that abused their power to hurt you cannot harm you anymore."

_Of course they can't. Most of them are dead,_  America thought. "Okay." was all he said.

"Could you tell me about these other encounters in more detail?" Charon requested.

America hesitated but nodded. "I… guess."

" _Keep as close to the truth as you can but don't tell him about the nations and Relics."_  Vale warned.

_I know._ America cleared his throat. "I was kept in a basement. A few of the soldiers got a kick out of torturing me. They kept me chained up and gagged, and I had a collar around my neck with a needle that could drug me if I tried to fight. They starved me and beat me up a few times. One of them did this." He touched his shoulder but quickly let his hand fall away.

"So you told me." Charon said calmly. "Do you mind giving me the details of that specific encounter again?"

America frowned. Had he told the doctor about his encounter with the ex-soldier? He did not recall. "Um. Sure." His voice grew toneless and almost robotic as he distanced himself from the memory. "He drugged me with a paralytic so I couldn't move. Then he bent me over a table and removed my shirt. He cut me up. Multiple times. Over a few weeks. You saw the scars." He dropped his gaze, prodding at a seam in the chair. "When I was allowed to shower he and another soldier came in and beat me up too."

Charon's expression smoothed out, but America could see the tension in his neck. "The soldier did more than that, didn't he?" the doctor asked in a way that suggested he knew America was keeping information to himself.

America abruptly shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

Charon frowned, and pressed a button on the recorder. America watched the light turn off but did not trust that it was actually deactivated. The doctor clasped his hands in front of him, catching America's gaze and holding it.

"Alfred, did the soldier assault you?" he asked quietly.

America's brow furrowed. "He attacked me, yeah."

Didn't he clearly say that already? Or was the doctor asking for clarification? Charon's face grew grave, his lips thinning with the reluctance of someone who did not want to explain something, and America belatedly realized what he  _actually_  meant. He felt his skin drain of color.

" _Oh_. N-Not like  _that_. I mean, he— he caressed me— my skin. He kinda touched my skin.  _That's_  what I meant to say. And his mouth brushed the side of my neck. It  _wasn't_  a kiss though! A-And he leaned against me when he was cutting me up. Behind me. But not— It wasn't— Er, and he and another soldier beat me up after I got out of the shower. I already said that, didn't I? But nothing like  _that_. He was just messing with me. It— It wasn't anything." He glanced nervously at the recorder. The light was still off.

"It's alright. I believe you." Charon said soothingly, and somehow America felt worse. "How did you escape?"

"P— Someone saved me." America said, cutting himself off just in time. If he told the doctor it was Penny, he would have to explain exactly why she was there, and since he stupidly already told Charon he had a fire-based Semblance rather than a technology one he was already digging his own grave. Not to mention the Atlas soldiers may want the 'rogue Penny unit' deactivated after what happened with the Atlesian Knights and Paladins. "Please don't ask who. I don't want them to get into trouble."

"What happened after that?" Charon asked, submitting to his wishes.

"I went into the mines." America revealed truthfully. "And I ran into—" He froze, and shut his eyes. "...Ironwood. He… He told me he had some of my friends in the Institute."

"Francis Bonnefoy, Lovino Vargas, and Jett Kirkland." Charon murmured.

"Do you want to talk to them?" America asked, selfishly hoping to cut this meeting short.

"Not today." Charon replied. "Please, continue."

America grimaced, bouncing one of his legs. "I escaped him and began to plan to try to get them out." he said vaguely. "That's how I ended up in the Institute."

"Alfred." Charon said in a tone comparable to a disappointed teacher. "What happened with Ironwood in the mine?"

"The usual." America said testily. "He wanted me to go with him and threatened to shoot me when I refused. He beat me up and my friend saved me again."  _Thank you, Penny._

Charon studied him, shifting from a friendly doctor into a harsh soldier before his eyes. America tensed, reminded once again that this man not only wished to inquire about his health, but find out the truth behind the Institute and Ironwood's actions.

"Alfred, did you know Ironwood had files on you?" Charon asked levelly.

America stiffened but said nothing. He did not  _know_  per se but he sure as hell  _thought_  Ironwood would have reports detailing all the crap Atlas put him and Canada through. He doubted the files these men were able to find had all the information, however. Ironwood would not be so sloppy, which left some nice blanks for the investigators to fill in.

"The data goes back for years and is quite extensive." Charon continued. "The General was  _very_  interested in you. Almost to the point of obsession. There were some very… personal details. Your family members, your pets, your habits, your routines, and a psychological evaluation, among other things."

America put aside his insight and looked at the scattered pieces of information as if he were an outsider. He shivered. He wanted to tell Charon it was  _not_  what he thought, but could not give more details without opening himself up for more questions.

Charon stared at him, face hard. "One of the reports mentions men being executed due to them disobeying orders and breaking a 'deal' struck between you and Ironwood. Would you like to share the details of this deal?"

"I offered my— myself so he would leave my brother alone." America blurted. He almost said 'my organs' but quickly recalled that  _no_ , humans tended to  _not_  regenerate their insides within a few days, if at all. His fingers clenched, digging into the fabric of the chair. "I couldn't let him hurt Mattie."

The doctor's eyes narrowed. "Ironwood had you at his mercy for months. His notes mentioned it." he stated flatly.

America's heart sank.  _Shit. Goddammit Ironwood, did you_ _ **have**_ _to write down your crimes?_

" _Maybe he hoped someone would find them."_  Vale said ominously.

America winced. "I— Well, you see..." He failed to come up with a convincing lie and his shoulders slumped. "...Yes. He abducted Mattie and I." On Atlas's orders, but the man in front of him could not and would never know that.

"What did he want you for?" Charon asked.

"My body." America muttered. He realized what that sounded like and cringed. "Uh, it was a science thing. Apparently Mattie and I are…  _special_. We have two Semblances."  _Crap. Crap._ _ **Wrong**_ _half-truth to share. I shouldn't have said that._ _ **Shut up**_ _, Alfred. Stop blabbing._ _ **Crap**_ _._

"Human experimentation." Charon murmured.

America was beginning to wish Vale would instantly crumble so he could die and escape the hole he was digging himself into. "Yes. But Mattie was not as… compatible so I offered my bo—  _me_  after one of the experiments. It was… a bad one and I attacked the guards before it so Ironwood threatened Mattie and I couldn't let him hurt my brother so I agreed to let him use me for whatever he wanted—"

" _Alfred,_ _ **hush**_ _."_  Vale hissed and he shut up.

"Did Ironwood take you up on your offer?" Charon asked.

"Yes, if you can even call it an offer." America said dully. He smiled bitterly. "It was just semantics. He had me right where he wanted me but at least I could  _pretend_  I was in control of something and get down on my knees and beg to keep my brother safe." He exhaled, dragging a hand over his face. "He kept his promise though. None of them touched Mattie. Just me."

" _Except when they shoved Mantle's Aura into him."_  Vale reminded him tonelessly.

He shuddered.  _I know. I'm trying not to think about it._

"Thank you for telling me this, Alfred." Charon said. "We knew Ironwood's crimes were numerous, but we were unaware of how far back they went until we found those reports."

America could only hope they did not find any reports with  _all_  of the information. The Kingdoms of Remnant were already on shaky ground. The revelation of another world would shatter their worldview and tear them further apart, perhaps even more so if they learned about Salem that way. Ironwood not only took part in illegal experimentation, but was part of a conspiracy that kept Salem, the Relics, and nations a secret from the world? Oh  _yes_ , that would  _definitely_  go over well with the general populace right now. America may disagree with Ozpin on a lot of things but keeping  _that_  from the world— for now— was one thing he agreed with.

Charon set down his tablet, placing his hands on his legs. The posture was much more casual than his stiff-backed soldier's stance, and America found himself relaxing in response.

"I know I claimed otherwise earlier, but I believe you may have to testify as a witness." Charon said.

And the relaxation was instantly gone.

"I can't." America said tightly.

"Alfred, Ironwood needs to be brought to justice." Charon replied firmly. "Among his crimes are abuse of power, inhumane experimentation, wrongful imprisonments, torture and executions, corruption, murder of noncombatants, assault, conspiracy, and multiple crimes against humanity, yet he may still _walk free_. He still has friends in high places. That is why we need  _every_  testimony we can get."

America studied him, brow crinkling. A pit opened in his stomach. "He's  _here_ , isn't he?" he realized. "You  _captured_ him. That's why you came to talk to me."

"He is in custody, guarded by our best men." Charon said quickly. "He will not be able to escape. You are safe."

Unsure of what he wanted to say, America stared at the doctor mutely, stomach churning.

" _They won't let us leave."_  Vale predicted.  _"Not until they wring everything they can from you about what Ironwood did. They want more fuel for their bonfire."_

America felt nauseous. "You've already decided he's guilty." he said faintly. "This isn't for a trial. This is for a publicized  _show_  of one."

"We already  _know_  Ironwood is guilty, Alfred." Charon said. "But the  _public_  needs to know as well. His victims deserve to know what he has done.  _You_  deserve to know, and see that monster brought to justice."

_It isn't justice if it's "Guilty until decided Guilty." and the trial is a sham._

America swallowed roughly, unable to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth. He knew Ironwood did those things. He also knew many were  _Atlas's_  crimes, not Ironwood's and his actions were done under Atlas's orders. But the General  _still_  did them. But that did not mean he should be thrown to the wolves. Right?

" _This is messed up."_ Vale said, and America silently agreed.

"As I told you before, please don't devalue yourself by trying to rationalize his actions." Charon said firmly. "Ironwood committed many terrible crimes, and now justice will be served. Do not pity him."

America felt lower than dirt. He did not need confirmation that he was making excuses for a man who hurt thousands of people and tormented him for months. He knew he was making excuses. But he couldn't  _stop_.

A knock on the door saved him from having to answer. He stood up shakily and opened it, revealing Japan. The black-haired nation nodded politely, but America swore there was an edge in his movements.

"Alfred, are you finished? Lunch is ready." he said.

America stared at him wordlessly, his question failing to register.

Japan frowned and looked past him, and America noticed his weapon was on his back. "You are invited as well."

"No thank you." Charon said smoothly. "I need to check in on my other patients. Just give me a moment in here."

"Of course." Japan said.

He grasped America's arm and guided him out of the room. As the door swung closed, America saw Charon  _press a button on the recorder_. Numbness swept through America and he stared at the study door hollowly.

"Are you alright?" Japan asked suddenly. "You are very pale."

America swallowed. "Ironwood is in their custody." he said lowly. "His trial has a predetermined verdict."

A smooth mask fell over Japan's face. "Ah."

The dull haze that plagued him earlier returned and America hunched over, wrapping his coat around himself. "Lunch?" he asked because he had to say  _something_ but not about  _that_  because he couldn't talk about it any more than he already had.

A crease appeared between Japan's eyebrows. "Alfred-kun—"

"I'm fine." America interrupted. He laughed bitterly. "I'm such an idiot, you know? I can't believe I was manipulated  _again_."

Japan's hand landed on his katana.

America grasped it and gently pulled it away from the weapon. "Don't. It's fine. He's just doing his job."

"You would think his job is to help his patients  _heal_." Japan spat.

" _We're not that lucky."_  Vale said dryly.

America looked towards his bedroom door, wanting nothing more than to return to his bed and curl up under the covers. Instead he planted a smile on his face as the door opened and Doctor Charon walked out. The man had the gall to smile in return as he bade them farewell and left. America had to wonder if the doctor felt Japan's glare burning into his back. The front door shut and silence fell over the two nations.

America rubbed his arms, trying and failing to ward off the chill tickling his skin. "Is Mattie up?"

"Not yet." Japan said. He hesitated visibly. "Would you like to wake him?"

Penny appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "I will assist you in your daily ritual if you would like." she said.

Neither of them mentioned that they did not wake Canada because America usually did it. He was able to read between the lines, however, and the hollow feeling inside yawned wider. America did not smile. He could not muster the energy. Instead he nodded slowly.

"Yeah." He crossed his arms, pressing them against his chest. "Yeah, I'll wake him. Come on, Penny."

He and Penny walked into their bedroom, and the robotic girl shut the door behind her. America approached the bed, stopping next to it, and stared down at his peacefully sleeping brother. He opened his mouth and sighed, unable to conjure the energy to shout. Instead he simply grabbed the mattress and flipped it over. Canada's shriek brought a thin smile to his lips, and he crouched down, peeking under the upturned mattress at grouchy violet eyes.

"Hey." America said.

Canada blinked, his annoyance fading. America laid down on top of the mattress before his brother could speak, and was rewarded with an irritated squeak from below. The mattress was surprisingly comfortable, even with Canada trapped underneath it. America lay on his side and felt the lump that was his twin shift. Mattie stuck his head out the side of the mattress, scowling. America lifted a hand and waved.

"I was tired." he claimed, and it was not exactly a lie.

Canada looked torn between growling and giving him a pitying look. He settled for prodding America in the side. "Let me up."

"Nah." America said, curling up on his side. "I'm comfy."

Canada's enraged snarl almost made him smile again. Almost.

"Move,  _please_?" his twin requested.

"Nope." America said. "I'm tired." His thin smile cracked and faded away. "I'm... really tired. And I messed up again. I told Charon that Ironwood abducted us."

Canada went quiet. He pulled himself out from under the mattress and sat on it next to America, legs bent at the knees.

"I'll be better soon." America blurted before his twin could speak. "Then I'll stop being a stupid blabbermouth, haha..."

Canada did not laugh.

"You are not stupid." Penny stated.

America almost forgot she was there. Oh Gods had Charon seen her? He would recognize her from the Tournament, wouldn't he? Well, it wasn't  _her_  there but still it was her model type. America did not feel like thinking about it. He did not feel like doing anything at all. His stomach growled but he made no effort to get back off the upturned bed.

"I'll try harder tomorrow." he said, and it felt like a lie.

Neither Canada nor Penny tried to convince him to get up, or go eat, or do anything other than lay there on Mattie's mattress on the floor. He could not appreciate or loathe them for their inaction. He could only loathe himself.

"Tomorrow will be better." he whispered, trying to make himself believe it.

Canada did not give him false comfort, instead patting his shoulder. Penny left— likely to get food—but America could already feel sleep calling to him. He did not resist the pull, and faded into obliviousness, hoping at least rest would give him peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, part of the conversation with Charon came about because of a comment I got for The Atrocities of Atlas. Needless to say, the question caught me off guard, so I added a section in here to clear things up in case other people wondered similarly. I wonder if you'll be able to spot the added section. I tried to meld it in but I don't know if I succeeded… For those who are curious, the question was asked in a comment on chapter 13.


	6. Just One Day

America opened his eyes to darkness. His breath caught in his throat and he tried to reach his face, but his arms were pinned to his sides. A muffled cry ripped free of his throat and he struggled to free himself. Something tore and hands wrapped around his wrists as soon as they were free, pinning them down.

A large, shadowy figure loomed over America and he lashed out, catching his assailant in the stomach. The man fell back with a low grunt, then rose again, lunging for him. One hand clamped over his mouth while the other pinned his wrists above his head—

As abruptly as the weight settled on him, it vanished. America scrambled for a lamp and flicked it on with a click. Russia smiled at him, wrapped up in Penny's wires and unbothered by the sword menacing his throat.

"Hello, Alfred." he greeted cheerfully.

"Ivan, what the  _hell_?" America wheezed, pressing a hand to his frantically pounding heart.

"I apologize, Alfred." Penny interjected. "I heard a noise and left the room."

"That was me." Russia admitted shamelessly. "I wanted to speak to Alfred."

"So you decided  _pinning me down_  was a good idea?" America demanded.

Russia shrugged. "I did not want to startle you."

"So you decided to—?" Knowing he would fail to understand the larger nation's logic, America wisely dropped the subject. "What is it?" he asked tiredly.

Russia glanced sidelong at Penny. "I do not want to speak with an audience."

Penny stared at him stonily. "I do not want you to be alone with Alfred." She said with a distinctly Russian accent.

Russia's eyebrow rose. "Is she mocking me?"

"It's okay, Penny." America said quickly. "If he tries anything, I'll burn him."

"Burning is not enough. Please consider vaporization." Penny suggested.

"Got it." America said. "Hear that, Ivan?  _Vaporization_."

Russia snorted.

Penny's eyes never left the large nation as she turned on her heel and walked out. Not even for a moment, for her head turned almost a complete one-eighty. Other people might have freaked out but America was used to Penny's quirks by now and Russia was Russia. The blond-haired nation settled back on his bed. He should try to find a less vulnerable position but he knew it would only serve as thinly-veiled pathetic posturing at this point.

"What do you want?" America asked, not beating around the bush.

Russia's smile vanished. "When are you going to be better?"

America hid a wince with a toothy smile. It felt painted onto his face. "Oh,  _whenever_. I can totally just choose when I recover. That's how it works, didn't you know?"

"Do not make jokes." Russia said flatly.

"Then what do you expect me to do?" America asked with equal dullness.

Russia opened his mouth.

"Let me guess." America continued before he could respond. "You want me strong again. You're disappointed your rival is so weak. You're dissatisfied that I've been brought so low by someone else."

Russia's brow creased. "That is not what I am thinking at all."

"Really?" America asked skeptically. "Then what's with the timetable demand?"

"I do not like seeing you like this." Russia said simply.

It was that almost childish genuineness that drained the panic-fueled energy from America's limbs. He laid his head back, staring at the ceiling. "And here I was thinking you would like me better this way."

Russia scoffed. "No."

"Sorry. I can't help it." America said, more resigned than he intended.

Surprisingly, Russia only nodded thoughtfully. "Da, but you will recover. You are too stubborn not to." Purple eyes glinted. "In the meantime, I will plot the many ways that the people responsible for this will suffer."

"And there's the Ivan I know." America said dryly, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Thanks. Next time you want to have a heart to heart, could you  _not_  sneak into my room in the middle of the night?"

"I promise nothing." Russia said. He tipped his head and his eyes narrowed to malicious slits. "I  _do_  hope you get better soon, however. Otherwise I may have to play the villain again."

America tensed.

Russia smirked and headed to the door. "Goodnight."

"As if I can sleep after seeing your ugly mug looming over me." America muttered.

Russia chuckled and sauntered out. He immediately poked his head back in. "Your robot is trying to murder me with her eyes."

"She's  _not_  mine." America retorted. "Treat Penny with respect, asshole."

Russia chortled and vanished.

Penny entered a second later, scanning America. "Do I need to vaporize Ivan-Russia Braginsky?" she asked.

"No, Penny." America said.

Penny considered his words carefully and nodded to herself. "Adjusting query. May I please vaporize Ivan-Russia-Braginsky?"

America almost found the energy to smile. " _No_ , Penny. He actually came in here to comfort me."

" _Is he trying to lull you into a false sense of security or something?"_  Vale asked, sounding more perplexed than alarmed.

"I do not compute." Penny said. "I thought he disliked you."

"No." America said softly in response to them both. "He's just… weird. He does care, even if he has an unorthodox way of showing it."

"That information has been logged." Penny informed him.

" _He is threatening bodily harm on your enemies."_ Vale emphasized.

_Yeah. That's Ivan for you._

Vale's bewilderment jabbed at his mind.  _"I will never understand you Earth nations."_

_Join the club._ "I'm going back to bed." he told Penny. "Thanks for standing watch."

"You are welcome. I am here for you..."

Her mouth moved for a few more syllables, but America was already falling asleep.

XXXXXXX

Ruby had an idea. She got the idea when she went to bed and she implemented it in the morning; after running it by her team of course. Now with bags in her hands, Yang pulling a wagon behind her, Blake carrying some more items, and their pockets considerably lighter, they returned home to find everyone up. Well, almost everyone. She scanned the room and was not surprised to find Alfred, Matthew, and Penny were not there. Ruby set her purchases down and hurried to Kiku.

"Is Alfred awake?"

Kiku shook his head. "No. Neither is Matthew."

"Okay." Ruby said. "Don't wake them. We need time to set up."

"'Set up'?" Jett questioned. Ruby showed him her purchases and he grinned toothily. "Nice!"

Winter was not as impressed. "You spent money on this?"

"Some of it. But it's worth it." Weiss said in defense of her leader. "Trust me."

Winter hesitated but relented with a nod.

"Alright, everybody. Let's do this." Ruby ordered.

With everyone helping out, it only took them half of an hour to get everything ready. Even Penny assisted for a little while before returning to her post watching over Alfred. It was decided Ruby would wake Alfred while Francis and Jett woke Matthew.

Ruby made sure to knock on the bedroom door before entering; Penny was a bit sword-happy at the best of times. She smiled at the robotic girl as she walked in, and Penny nodded back. It helped to think of her as Penny Polendina's twin sister, and her different mannerisms helped distance her from Ruby's old friend even more.

Ruby approached the bed and paused, considering how to proceed. She doubted Alfred would respond well to being shaken and she did not want to know what it was like to get struck by lightning, thank you very much. She carefully touched his arm and mismatched eyes immediately snapped open, wide with panic. The haze of sleep faded and Alfred recognized her. He relaxed, his muscles loosening.

"Is everything okay?" was his first question.

Ruby held back a wince. What had their lives become that  _that_  was his response to her waking him? "Yeah, everything is fine."

A thud and violent hiss signified Matthew was awake. Like he was approaching the hole of a poisonous snake, Jett carefully knelt and held out a cup of coffee. A pale hand grabbed it and Matthew shoved the mattress off of himself with a grumble. His hair stuck up at odd angles, giving him a look much like a lion's mane. Ruby smothered a giggle. Once Matthew stopped looking ready to commit murder, Ruby finally responded to Alfred.

"Come on. I have something to show you."

Alfred nodded and sat up with a slowness that suggested he was trying to fight his way through molasses. He shivered and tugged on the sleeves of his pajama t-shirt, glancing at her.

Alfred paused, doing a double-take. "...Is that  _bacon_  on your PJs?"

Ruby turned red. "Maybe." she said, denying the clearly-displayed cartoon pictures of bacon— complete with funny faces and pun-filled speech bubbles— that covered her top and pants.

Alfred eyes a bacon on her shoulder and snorted. "'I won't go bacon your heart'? 'I couldn't if I fried'? 'I'm absolutely bacon' 'Just trying to baconstructive' 'Baconvince me I'm frying'?"

Ruby's cheeks heated up. She was certain her skin tone matched her cloak. " _Shut up!_  They— They were on clearance." Hopefully they were, anyway. Ruby did not pick them out herself. She had her older sister to thank for that. But she had to admit they were funny. "You should see Jaune's." she deflected. "They're bunny footsie pajamas."

Alfred's lips twitched at the mental image and her heart lifted. Ruby shot Penny a significant look and the robot frowned at her, but departed without a word. Ruby led Alfred and the yawning Matthew out of the room, and the twins instantly saw the changes in the kitchen.

Alfred froze, shock passing over his features. "What is this?"

On the table was a hearty breakfast of toast, eggs, bacon, and fruit, but it was not that which drew Alfred's attention. Clearly visible in the living room were piles of board games, video games, a console, movies, comics, bowls of junk food, and a deck of cards. A couple beanbag chairs sat around the room, positioned close to the screen. Penny returned clad in pastel green pajamas, which she pulled at curiously. Her lips dipped in dissatisfaction— likely at the attire's lack of combat usefulness— but she did not object to the sleepwear.

"We are going to eat breakfast and then have a do-nothing day." Ruby declared.

Nora slung an arm around Alfred's shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to reach comfortably. "Our only mission is to do fun things and hang out. No S-A-L-E-M, no G-R-I-MM, no R-E-L-C-I-S. No worries."

Alfred blinked. His lips twitched. "What's a 'Relcis'?"

"Shhhhh." Nora said, putting a finger to his lips. "We're not talking about such things today."

"Okay." Alfred agreed, pulling her hand away. "But why? Is it someone's birthday?"

"Nope." Yang said casually, looking past him at Matthew. "We're just taking a day off."

"A lot of the stuff is borrowed so make sure you don't break it." Weiss added.

"Who did you borrow it from?" Alfred asked, brow crinkling.

"Our neighbors. They were happy to help." Ruby said vaguely.

She did not mention that said 'neighbors' were the people from the Institute. Originally, Ruby had gone to Neon's family to ask if they had anything she could borrow for today, but when others heard about what she was planning, so many chipped in without being asked. They gave her their board games, their video games, their movies, and some even offered money though Team RWBY politely declined that last one.

Ruby knew that those items did not come with these people from Atlas, and the thought that they let the Huntsmen borrow them warmed her heart as much as it almost made her want to cry. None of them knew exactly why Ruby wanted the items, but as soon as they heard, the former inmates of the Institute gave them to her. She knew this was their way of saying thanks for rescuing them. But today was not a day to discuss the Institute. Today was— as Nora said— a 'no worries' day.

Alfred blinked. The way his eyes went round told Ruby that he had likely figured out where the borrowed stuff came from without her saying it. "I..."

"If you're finished gawking, get over here and eat before the food gets cold." Arthur said with a huff.

Alfred wandered over to the table in a daze, slowly sitting down and staring at the food like he was seeing through it. Feliciano piled bacon and eggs onto his plate and he blinked at it, visibly stunned. Ruby forced herself not to watch him as she happily ate a strip of bacon, dunking it in the yolk of her egg and eating it. She ignored Weiss's horrified look. It tasted  _good_. Weiss could be prissy about keeping her own meal separate. Ruby was  _enjoying_  her meal,  _so_ _there_.

The others dug in but Alfred still did not eat, scanning the table with a whiplash-like expression. He blinked at the bowl of mashed potatoes, befuddled by their presence at the breakfast table.

"As you can see, I have made the mashed potatoes. It is a new recipe." Penny said seriously. "I did not allow Arthur Kirkland into the kitchen to assist me, as Feliciano Vargas has informed me of his tendency to cause explosions with his food. While such an ability sounds beneficial in battle, it is disadvantageous outside of combat situations."

Arthur squawked indignantly. Feliciano smiled sheepishly. Alfred  _laughed_ , a loud, undignified snort. He twitched, startled by his own chuckles, but slowly smiled. It was tiny, and so different from his normal beaming grin, but it was there.

"Thank you." he whispered.

"Hey, we need this too." Nora pointed out.

Alfred's eyes softened. "I know. But thanks."

He reached for a strip of bacon but Yang's hand darted under his, grabbing his intended slice. The two stared at each other, and awkwardness slipped away in favor of fiery competition. For a moment, Ruby thought they might fight over who got the piece but then Yang yanked the slice of bacon to her plate and stuck out her tongue.

"Mine." she said, immaturely stuffing the bacon into her mouth.

Alfred eyed her, lips dipping into a frown. "Yang." he said flatly. "You're bacon me crazy."

Yang snorted, spraying bits of bacon everywhere. She swallowed hastily and looked at Alfred, planting a hand over her heart. "Alfred, how could you go bacon my heart like that?"

"I'm sorry." Alfred said seriously. "I feel waffle."

Arthur's face twisted. Either he was trying not to laugh or about to burst a blood vessel. It was difficult to tell. A horrified look fell over Jaune's face.

"That was an eggcellent comeback." Yang praised, ignoring them.

"Well, it's better than having an eggsistential crisis." Alfred replied.

" _No_." Jaune groaned.

"Guys, stop yolking around." Jett ordered, lips twitching.

Matthew choked, cheeks red from laughter. Blake pounded him on the back and he cleared his throat, straightening. "I'm sorry. I wasn't bready for that."

Arthur adopted a constipated look.

"I hate all of you." Jaune said faintly.

"Ah, but you need us around." Ivan said cheerfully. "We are butter together."

Feliciano giggled. Lovino smacked his brother's arm and kneaded his own forehead but did not verbally object.

"This meal is very good. Let's give a toast to the chef." Francis said suddenly, straight-faced and holding up a piece of toast.

"Agreed. The food is eggsquisite." Nora cackled.

Winter coughed suspiciously into her hand.

"Guys, we should stop this." Weiss said sharply. She hesitated but took a breath. "Otherwise Jaune might become a  _cereal_  killer."

Jaune slammed his forehead into the table. " _Noooooo..._ "

"Now, Jaune." Pyrrha chided. "Let them have their fun. You don't have to be a rotten egg."

" _Noooooooooo._ " Jaune wailed.

"I am confused." Penny said.

"Puns, Penny." Alfred explained.

Apparently that was enough for her, for she nodded. "I compute. Such an evaluation is over-easy."

Alfred laughed and hugged Penny.

Yang beamed, wiping away and imaginary tear. "She's  _punning_. I'm so proud!"

Jaune smacked his forehead into the tabletop again.

" _Whhhhhyyyyy_?" Jaune groaned in despair.

"Its okay Jaune." Ruby soothed him hesitantly. "You know Yang will use any eggscuse—" Her eye widened in horror. " _I didn't mean it!_ "

Oscar made a strangled sound, covering his mouth.

"One of us. One of us." Nora chanted. Jett joined her." _One of us._ "

Ruby wished she had her cloak on so she could hide her red face. "It's not my fault. Yang corrupted me."

" _Eggscellent_." her evil sister purred.

"Just  _eat_." Arthur growled.

Alfred chuckled and grabbed a strip of bacon. He smacked Yang's hand away. "Mine." he said innocently, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Yang smirked. "Oh really? Wanna start a fi—"

Abruptly, her smile froze on her face and she looked away. Ruby's stomach twisted. It appeared Yang had remembered the last time she 'fought' Alfred, thinking he was Neo…

_I never told Alfred what Neo said._  Ruby opened her mouth but stopped herself. Today was not the day for that conversation.

"Penny. What did you add to these?" Francis asked suddenly, scooping up a bit of mashed potato and inspecting it.

"I consulted a recipe and added salt, shallots, bacon, sour cream, garlic, cream cheese, pepper, and parsley." Penny informed him. "Is it satisfactory?"

"It's  _great_." Alfred said after trying a bite.

Ruby hesitantly did the same and was surprised to find he was right. It  _was_  good, with a pleasant texture and nice flavoring. Surprising for Penny's first attempt.

"You have skill." Francis praised. "Would you like to learn some recipes from me?"

Penny thought about it and nodded once. "Affirmative. Thank you for your offer."

Matthew's eyebrows rose but a smile played at his lips. Catching Ruby's eye, he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Francis does not make that offer to just anyone. He really does see talent in her."

That made Ruby smile. They finished eating and cleared the table, washing the dishes and heading into the living room. Alfred paused and let the others go by him, taking a moment to survey their hoard of activities. Matthew briefly paused beside him and Ruby forced herself not to flinch. Seeing the twins next to each other, it was harder to ignore the bony edges to Alfred's face. Thankfully, Alfred failed to notice her expression. His head snapped towards Penny and his hands moved aimlessly.

"Penny, do you want me to do your hair?" he asked.

The robotic girl brightened. "Yes."

She hurried out of the room and returned with a hairbrush, ponytail holder, and ribbon. Ruby forced herself to focus on setting up some games instead of watching Alfred out of the corner of her eye as he carefully put Penny's hair into a pony. He tied the ribbon around it but refrained from tying it into a bow and instead kept the ends loose.

"There." he said.

"Thank you." Penny said seriously.

She stood up and wandered over to the pile of games, eyeing it curiously. Alfred placed the hairbrush on a counter and rose as well. Abruptly, a pained look crossed his face. Alfred's eyes glazed, his face falling as his hand twitched towards his stomach.

"Al?" Ruby asked quietly.

He shook himself, smiling, but it vanished before it could fully appear. "I'm… I'm fine."

Blood dripped from his nose but he wiped it away with a tissue, throwing it into the trash before anyone but Ruby could see it. A tremor went through him but he continued into the room like nothing had happened. He was acting again.

It made Ruby question how much of his cheer and joking was real.

"Who wants to get their butts kicked at video games?" Alfred asked.

"Not me." Jett groused.

Alfred pouted at him. "Sore loser."

"Hacking cheater." Jett shot back.

"It was an  _accident_." Alfred huffed.

He glanced around and Ruby noticed those that hastily retreated to the opposite side of the room, only to flee again when Matthew held up Remnant: The Game with an evil grin. The twins looked at each other, then to those that knew to fear them during those games.

"Cowards." they chorused.

"I would like to play." Kiku mentioned, looking at the game Matthew held.

"It was nice knowing you." Blake said seriously.

"Don't be like that." Yang huffed. "Come, Kiku. You may be our only hope to defeat Emperor Curly."

She flopped onto the floor and patted a seat beside her. Matthew was already setting up the game. A horrified look of resignation crossed Kiku's face as he realized what he had agreed to but he did not back out, sitting between the two. Ruby wished him luck.

"So who wants to play with me?" Alfred asked. He scanned the room again, gaze landing on Oscar as the boy hovered in the corner. "What about you, Oscar?"

The boy jumped, startled at being addressed. "Um… I've never played." he mumbled. "I didn't have time for video games. Or parties. Or any friends." He ducked his head.

Ruby's heart went out to him. She knew what it was like to feel lonely and out of her depth. It hurt to remember that she was one of the ones who isolated—  _Not today._

Alfred sat down, beckoning for Oscar to join him. "I'll show you how to play."

"As will I." Ren said solemnly, sitting beside Alfred with some space between them.

Oscar hesitantly sat down in the open space and Alfred and Ren began to explain the game to him. Despite his earlier claim, Jett sat in their little group, listening in, and Penny joined them as well, expression rapt. Poor Blake was roped into playing Remnant and lost immediately— or she saw an easy out and took it— so she wandered over to Arthur with a less stressful game to play. Ruby grabbed the deck of cards and looked to Weiss and Ivan.

"Want to play a nice, peaceful, noncompetitive, nonviolent, not-intense game?" she asked.

"Sounds lovely." Weiss said seriously.

"Da." Ivan agreed, beaming.

They ended up playing crazy eights with Francis, Pyrrha, and Jaune too, though in reality they were all waiting for the inevitable explosion from the outcome of the Remnant: The Game match. Even Alfred and Ren had an eye on that game, with the former hiding a smile as Yang instructed Kiku with a seriousness that was more appropriate for a real war. None of them seemed to feel awkward about playing as the Kingdoms, most of which were—

_Not today_ , Ruby reminded herself.

Alfred let Jett play against Oscar first— "So you won't crush the poor kid's spirit." the brown-haired nation had claimed— and he seemed to be having fun. All games were paused when Yang wailed in mourning.

"I've been defeated by the evil Emperor. My Kingdom has fallen." she cried dramatically. "Kiku, avenge your faithful ally."

Kiku never looked away from his cards. "I will do my best." he said seriously.

Ruby turned back to her own game, and the others did the same. Darn it, Francis had only one card left. That would not do. She used her eight to change it from Clubs to Spades and Francis smirked, setting down an Ace of Spades.

Ruby smacked her head into the table. "Rats."

"I win." Francis crowed.

"Playing for second." Jaune said instantly before the others could lower their remaining cards.

"Sure, why not." Weiss agreed.

Francis reshuffled the remaining deck except his winning card, putting the 'take' pile back together. On the other side of the room, Arthur grumbled when Blake won their game, eye twitching as she sweetly asked he congratulate her, complete with a smirk. It appeared Yang was rubbing off on the Faunus— or she was letting loose for a day— for Blake reached for a bowl of party mix when he refused. Winter intercepted.

"If you throw that at him, you have to clean it up." she said sternly. "Same to you." she said without turning around to look at Nora, who froze like a child literally caught with her hand in the popcorn bowl.

The orange-haired girl sulked and removed her hand from the bowl. "Fine. You won." she informed Whitley.

Whitley smirked. "I was raised in a business environment. I don't know how you expected another outcome. But that was a good attempt." he conceded.

"Weiss, come kick your brother's butt." Nora demanded.

"No." Weiss said simply, turning back to her own game.

Ruby placed a card and won second place, receiving a congratulatory pat on the back from Francis. She noticed his superior smirk and flicked a pretzel at him, hitting him between the eyebrows and making him yelp. His eyes glittered and he grabbed the bowl, only to freeze when Winter pinned him with a warning glare.

Francis smiled innocently. "Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" he cajoled.

Winter rolled said 'beautiful' eyes. "You are all children." she muttered but made no further objections.

"Playing for third." Jaune insisted and Ruby reshuffled the discard pile again.

Pyrrha immediately got third.

"Fourth!" Jaune demanded.

"How did you learn to do that combo?" Jett spluttered from across the room.

Ruby looked back to see Jett's character KOed. Alfred had wandered over to Feliciano and Romano— somehow dragging Winter with him— and they were playing a different game, evidently having given up on getting his turn. Penny had also wandered away and was now playing Remnant Mansion Mystery with Arthur and Blake. Both patiently explained the game, with Blake filling in where Arthur could not. Apparently the game was similar to 'Clue' or 'Cluedo' from Earth, if his comments were anything to go by.

Oscar smiled sheepishly. "Ozpin told me how to do it. He said Qrow taught him how to play when he was drunk." Upon receiving startled looks, he shrugged. "Ozpin went along with it because it was funny."

Jett threw his controller down in disgust. "Cheaters. All of you."

"My turn." Nora interrupted.

"Hey, let Alfred go." Oscar protested.

"I'm good." Alfred called, having already set up Taijitu and Ladders.

Winter glared at her piece as if she were daring it to fail her. Ruby was surprised the poor little token did not burst into flames.

"Well, that was quick." Arthur said flatly, glowering at Remnant Mansion Mystery.

"What happened?" Ruby asked.

"Penny guessed the right combination her  _first try_." Blake said, mouth agape.

"Did I play wrong?" Penny asked.

"No. It was just extremely lucky. Good job." Blake rushed to reassure her. "Here. Let's play again."

" _Fifth!_ " Jaune snarled when Weiss got fourth, leaving only him and Ivan.

Weiss obediently shuffled the discarded cards once more.

"Kiku, you can do it! I  _believe!_ " Yang shouted.

Kiku did not respond, staring at the board with a neutral expression.

Matthew did the same with equal focus. He set down a card. "I play Atlesian Air Fleet. I'm attacking your wall directly."

Yang's face fell.

Kiku smiled. He placed down a card. "Trap card. Your army has been destroyed." He gently brushed the pieces away, leaving him as the conqueror of Remnant.

Matthew froze.

Yang squealed. She hugged Kiku, shaking him violently back and forth, and he twitched. His flailing arms reminded Ruby of that one cat Yang tried to hug to death when she was twelve. Poor Kiku.

"You did it!" Yang shouted. "You brought down the evil tyrant that ruled this world for millennia!  _YES!_ "

Kiku cringed. "Please release me."

Yang did as he asked, but only because she jumped to her feet and danced around the room. "Yes yes yes!"

"Well done." Matthew congratulated Kiku gracefully.

"Thank you." Kiku said with equal gracefulness. "You were a worthy opponent."

"Quit that." Yang complained. "Talk some smack. Rub his defeat in his  _face_. The mighty Emperor Curly has been dethroned at last." She laughed maniacally.

"You assistance helped assure my victory." Kiku claimed "Thus I will leave the 'smack talk' to you."

Yang grinned wickedly.

Matthew grimaced, resigned to his fate.

" _Dammit_!" Jaune cried.

Ivan smiled and clasped his empty hands together. "I get fifth." he said happily.

Jaune whined, setting his remaining two cards down and planting his head on them. Pyrrha patted his arm consolingly. His head snapped up, and one of the cards stuck to his forehead. It fell off and fluttered back to the table.

"New game!" he demanded, a familiar fire in his eyes.

"Oh Gods it's contagious." Ruby breathed.

Blake choked on a piece of popcorn. She recovered on her own, raising a hand. "I'm okay."

" _Jeez_ , people. Be careful." Alfred chided.

"Like you're any better." Lovino muttered.

Alfred pouted at him. "Mean."

He flinched and rubbed his forearm with a grimace, then rolled the dice without comment, climbing up a ladder. Lovino glowered murderously at Alfred's blue piece, which was now up front. The glare transferred to Winter's red piece, which went up the same ladder. Feliciano rolled and giggled nervously, going up the  _same_  ladder. Lovino rolled and got a one, forcing him to slide back down to the bottom. His eye twitched. Alfred got a six and moved the rest of the spaces to the end.

"I win." he said, and fled out of Lovino's reach when the brown-haired nation growled.

Lovino leaped to his feet and made to give chase, only to trip over his brother's leg. He caught himself on Winter just as she made to rise, yanking her down. Irritated blue eyes pinned Lovino.

" _I'm sorry!_ " he yelped, clinging to Feliciano.

Feliciano shrieked… and sank through the floor, taking his screaming brother with him.

Matthew eyed the spot they had vanished in and sighed. "I'll go get them."

Yang grabbed his arm before he could rise. "You're not going anywhere." she purred.

Matthew groaned. Kiku tried to creep away but Yang yanked him back to the floor.

Winter looked skyward. "Children." she repeated, but Ruby liked to think she sounded amused.

Jett went to retrieve the Italian brothers from whatever floor they had sunk to. Alfred sat down behind Ruby with a  _thud_  and she almost dropped her cards. That did  _not_  sound like a graceful descent. Alfred's wince proved it had been unintentional but he casually adjusted himself so he was sitting more comfortably with his back to her.

"Hi." he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "Ruby has two eights."

Ruby pressed her cards to her chest. "I do not!"

"She does,  _does she?_ " Jaune said eerily, eye twitching. "Thanks for telling us, Alfred."

"No problem." he said.

Ruby prodded him in the shoulder and he winced. She recoiled, having forgotten about the wounds still covered by bandages that were there.

"It's fine." Alfred soothed her before she could apologize. He shuffled around so he was leaning against the wall. "Ruby has a three."

Ruby slammed her cards facedown onto the table. "Quit it." she shrieked.

"Don't quit it." Yang called from where she was trying to encourage Kiku to 'kick Emperor Curly's butt' again. Kiku had the look of a man who regretted every single one of his life's decisions. "Alfred F. Jones, I grant you the title of honorary annoying older sibling in my absence. I'm too busy right now."

"Can one be considered a sibling when they are not biologically related?" Penny asked suddenly.

"Of course." Yang said, waving vaguely.

Penny's head tipped thoughtfully and she glanced at Alfred.

"Alfred, do you accept your title?" Yang asked loftily.

"Sure." Alfred said, and poked Ruby in the back of the head.

Ruby scowled and poked him back; in the ribs where she knew he was not injured.

He smiled. "Arthur, she's touching me."

Ruby's lips twitched. "Arthur, he's touching me."

"Complain to Francis." Arthur replied casually, flipping through the stash of movies for one he wanted to watch. He pulled some popcorn closer to him and warded off Nora with his foot.

"Complain to Winter." Francis said immediately.

Winter sighed. "Am I supposed to send them to their rooms?" she asked sarcastically.

Both Alfred and Ruby burst out laughing, and some of her worry that he was faking his happiness eased. It would be too much to believe he was better, but Ruby liked to think he was okay, for today at least. Alfred's smile lingered even when he stopped chuckling, but for a moment his mismatched eyes dulled and the melancholy that seemed to cover him like a cloak flickered back to life. Ruby's breath hitched, but before she could wonder what had gone wrong, Alfred leaned close to her.

"Ruby? Thanks for this." he said quietly.

Ah. So it was contemplation, not melancholy that claimed him. Ruby breathed a little easier knowing that. She did not ask how he knew it was her idea and only gave him a short "You're welcome." She retrieved a new card and planted it against the table.

"Don't tell them what card I have."

"'Kay." Alfred agreed.

Ruby smiled and picked up the card, adding it to her hand.

"Ruby got another eight. I think she's cheating."

" _Alfred!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I almost forgot to update today. Ugh, I'm frazzled. Everything's just been off this week.
> 
> You know that scene with Penny and 'Clue'? That actually happened with me and my friends. We taught one friend who had never played before and had her go first as a test to see if she understood how to play, and when she called out the cards, no one showed her any. We were like, "What gives?" and she checked the envelope and her first answer was the solution. None of us could believe it. We just reset and restarted the game, haha.


	7. Bad News

After having a wonderful day of lazing about and not worrying about anything, it was only natural that America would not sleep that night. He spent the hours staring at the ceiling, debating whether to take Penny up on her offer to play some games or chat instead of laying there and doing nothing. He had refused out of the hope that he would eventually fall into the land of dreams— not nightmares,  _please_ — but that hope had been futile. He watched the sunlight peek through his window and sighed, covering his eyes with his arm.

_At least we didn't have nightmares._

" _Because we didn't sleep at all."_  Vale groaned.

Mumbling a hello to Penny, America forced his aching muscles to work and got up. He paused by the window in the spot of warmth the sunlight provided and his eyes slipped closed drowsily. They snapped open when Penny caught him before he could tip forward.

"I'm awake." he mumbled, holding back a yawn.

Penny frowned at him and walked out. She returned a minute later with two cups of coffee. Shoving one at him, and acknowledging his muttered thanks with a nod, she set the other on the bedside table. Without preamble, she flipped Canada's mattress. America muffled his cackles when Canada growled, pulling his blankets under the mattress with him. He knelt and peered underneath to see the ball of fabric that was his twin.

"Wow. Someone's extra grumpy this morning."

It was too early for Canada to notice how tired his teasing sounded. His twin's only response was a garbled mess of words in what could very well be a long-lost alien language. Even the smell of coffee failed to make him move from his spot. Rolling his eyes, America set the cup back on the table and prodded the mattress with his foot.

"You have ten minutes before I come back and jump on you." He threatened.  _Hopefully without staying there this time..._  America shoved that thought away.

Canada grunted.

America left him there and entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He stepped towards the shower and paused, returning to the door. After double-checking to make sure no one could get in, he removed his pajamas and went into the shower, washing off quickly as he could and occasionally peeking out to check that the door was indeed closed. There was only one bathroom in their new living space, and with so many people, sometimes there were lines of people dancing outside. It should be early enough that no one else was awake but America did not want to risk it. Sure enough, he barely stepped out before someone frantically rapped on the door.

"Who's in there?" Jaune asked. "I  _really_  have to go."

"It's me." America called back. "I'm not decent. Give me a sec."

He wrapped a towel around himself and padded towards his clothes, which hung from a hook on the back of the door. He paused in front of the mirror, craning his neck, and grimaced at the bright red letters carved into his skin.

" _I don't know why you keep thinking they'll be gone."_  Vale said quietly.

America cringed.  _I—_

A low screeching sound interrupted him and America jumped backwards into the shower, nearly slipping on the tile. His towel fell to the floor and he yanked the curtain over as the door was shoved open. Jaune rushed in and America hid behind the curtain, torn between laughing and kneading his aching forehead.

He waited until the toilet flushed and the sink turned on to peer out. The door was closed once more, but a large chunk of wood was missing from the frame where the lock should be. Jaune heard the curtain rustle and froze. The knight looked from the broken door to America, to the door and back again. His cheeks reddened.

"Well." America said dryly. "Look who's been working out. That poor door didn't stand a chance. You couldn't wait two seconds?"

Jaune's cheeks reddened. "Shut up. I had to go."

"So you decided to break the door?" America asked, bemused.

Jaune groaned. "Weiss is going to be mad." He paled. " _Winter_  is going to be mad."

"A bitter fate is waiting for you." America said solemnly, not disagreeing. "Now could you hand me my clothes?"

Jaune's face matched Pyrrha's hair. He meekly gave America his clothes and the nation put his underwear and pants on, stepping out of the shower in his jeans. He was about to put his shirt on when he heard Jaune gasp. America grimaced and sighed, knowing what the knight had seen. He cursed himself as he turned so his back was fully to Jaune, giving him a clear view of the scars.

"Take a picture. It will last longer." he said tonelessly.

He heard Jaune wince. "Sorry."

"It's fine." America said, bitterly acknowledging that was his new catchphrase.

He made to put his shirt on but Jaune caught his arm. America stiffened in his grasp but did not pull away.

"Wait." Jaune said. "Maybe I can heal it."

America's stomach twisted into a pretzel and he shook his head. "No thank you. It didn't heal when you tried in the Institute—"

"You had worse injuries I had to focus on. Now it's just this." Jaune insisted. Hopeful, pleading blue eyes met his. "Please, let me try."

America hesitated but set his shirt down, turning so his back was to Jaune once more. He ducked his head, holding his neck stiff and tense. He did not want to headbutt Jaune if he flinched. A warm hand landed on his shoulder blade, fingers spreading across the mutilated flesh, and he gnawed on his lip, gooseflesh pricking at his skin. He began counting in Japanese.

"Just let me..." Jaune murmured, and America saw the glow before he felt it.

Despite the warmth of the Aura, America felt bitterly cold as it covered his back. He focused on breathing evenly, trying to ensure his chest did not heave as he grappled with his growing panic. America forgot the Japanese word for "twenty-seven" and his breathing stuttered. He moved on to French words for different flowers and not the foreign energy sinking into his flesh. This was not like last time. He knew what Jaune was doing. He knew that the Aura surrounding and penetrating him was not trying to force its way into his body to destroy him.

" _I'm sorry."_  Vale whispered again, her presence brushing his mind, and America's heart leaped into his throat.

"Stop." he whispered.

Jaune did not appear to hear him. America could see his focused expression in the mirror, his blue eyes locked on the injuries he was trying to mend. His Aura spread across America's back, covering the scars, but America could not see if it was doing anything. It did not feel like it was doing anything yet, just laying in wait for an opening so it could shove its way into his core and rip him apart—

" _Stop_." America wheezed, feeling dizzy.

Jaune shook his head. "Just a little more..."

The Aura probed the scars on his back curiously, and— upon deciding they were a sufficient opening—  _pushed_. Pain lanced through America's back and he bit back a scream, lurching away from the knight. Jaune jumped, his white Aura vanishing and America frantically checked his back, relieved to see no white light remaining. When he twisted his scars split open and stung but he did not care.

Jaune frowned. "You're bleeding—"

"It's fine." America said hastily, backing away from the knight. He crashed into the towel rack and knocked one to the floor, but barely noticed. "Just— Just stop. Please  _stop_."

Finally, Jaune heard his quiet pleas, and saw his pale skin, his tense posture, his terrified eyes. Confusion melted into horror and Jaune raised placating hands. They trembled, pink and calloused and with no white light on them.

"Alfred, I'm sorry." he babbled. "I didn't listen. I— I'm so  _sorry_. That was awful of me."

"It's okay." America claimed, even though it really was not. "You just wanted to help. Thanks for trying. I mean, you don't really have a handle or known limit on your Semblance yet so there aren't any rules now are there?" He realized how toneless his voice was and laughed to cover it up. His giggle came out awkward and shaky. "How about the first one is if they tell you to stop, you  _stop_ , okay?" America stubbornly pretended his voice did not crack.

Jaune's face twisted with distress. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to…" He cut himself off and shook his head as his shoulders slumped. "I guess my Semblance can't mend everything. I should have realized that with what happened to Qrow." He sank to the bathroom floor, legs outstretched and head in his hands.

America sat beside him— not touching him— and tried to slow his pounding heartbeat. "It's not your fault."

Jaune did not respond, though he silently shook his head.

"Have you… talked to anyone about this?" America asked carefully.

Jaune shook his head again.

"Do you want—?"

"No." Jaune said. "You have enough problems. I'm not piling mine on you."

America remembered France saying something similar. "Then talk to Pyrrha." he offered. "Or Ruby."

"I can't talk to Ruby about my failure to heal _her uncle_." Jaune said softly.

America was not dissuaded. " _Pyrrha_." he repeated stubbornly. He poked Jaune in the shoulder. "You should know better than to keep secrets from your girlfriend, asshole."

Jaune snorted. His expression soon sobered and he looked miserably at his hands.

"Don't keep it in." America said, looking at a crack in the ceiling and not those same hands. "If you do, the problems will just keep on piling up until you drown in them."

" _Understatement of the century."_  Vale murmured.

"I'll try." Jaune promised, and America smiled thinly.

It did not take much to convince people to share their burdens when he was a clear case of what could happen if they didn't. Taking one last look at the red letters on his shoulders, America grabbed some bandages from the cabinet and handed them to Jaune.

"Could you patch me up?" he requested.

Jaune nodded and silently covered his wounds. America kept his head down and pretended not to be watching Jaune's hands in the mirror, ready to break away if he spotted a single flicker of white light. Jaune gently taped the gauze into place and lowered his hands to his sides. He cleared his throat.

"Who gave—?"

"A soldier."

Jaune winced. "When—?"

"With Polendina."

Jaune went quiet.

"Thanks for the help." America said after a pregnant pause.

Jaune smiled and nodded, and America slipped his t-shirt on. The bathroom door opened and the two tensed. Penny poked her head in and glanced between them. She blinked and frowned at Jaune, crossing her arms.

"It is rude to break into the bathroom when Alfred is in it." she said sternly. "It causes him stress."

Jaune's cheeks flushed. "How—?" He paused. "I mean, that wasn't me. I didn't do that."

"Your statement is false." Penny declared, green eyes narrowing.

"I  _really_  had to get in." Jaune pleaded. "I had to go."

"If you need to  _leave_  then you can come with me." Penny stated, misunderstanding his statement. "Let Alfred get dressed in peace."

She grabbed Jaune by the hood and dragged him out, shutting the door behind her. America stared at the door in silence, lips twitching. Trust Penny to lighten his mood. He exited the bathroom and entered the kitchen area. He instantly had to stifle his laughter.

Everyone was there, including Penny and Jaune, and the robotic girl had taken a seat right across from the knight. That would not be funny in an of itself, except she was currently glaring at him like he told her mashed potatoes were revolting. Penny was by no means subtle with her ire, and as America sat, Ruby leaned over to whisper to him.

"What happened? Why is Penny mad?" she murmured.

The robotic girl's head swiveled to focus on Ruby. "Jaune Arc broke into the bathroom while Alfred was showering and in a state of undress." Her head swiveled back and she glowered at Jaune like he had broken a federal law.

Jaune turned red.

Nora shot her leader a disappointed look, but her tiny smirk gave her away. "Jaune, how could you  _do_  that? First Ren, now Alfred? I had no idea you were such a perv."

The look on Jaune's face was comparable to that of a man who realized he was utterly doomed. "Nora,  _no_." he groaned, covering his crimson face with his hands.

America stifled his laughter with his palm. "It was a joke, Penny." he said quickly when the mechanisms in her backpack shifted.

"I am meant to defend you from any threats." Penny stated, clearly seeing Jaune as a threat at the current time.

"Jaune isn't a threat." America said patiently.

"To anything but Alfred's honor." Nora muttered, grinning wickedly.

She may act sweet and cheerful but she was truly an  _evil_  mastermind. Everyone at the table knew exactly what she was doing if their suspicious smirks were of any indication.

Penny frowned. "Definitions of 'honor': 'high respect, esteem, privilege' Alternative definition: 'in reference to chastity or reputation'." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

America had to physically stop Penny's weapons from emerging. He would let Nora have her fun, but not at the cost of Jaune becoming a new target for termination. "Nora is still joking, Penny. Jaune  _isn't_  a threat to me.  _Right_ , Nora?"

"Yeah, Alfie's right. Jaune's more like a bathroom-skulking menace." Nora corrected innocently.

"He does have a habit of showing up there." Ren said.

"Were you shirtless too?" America asked, straight-faced.

"Indeed." Ren said solemnly.

Jaune's mouth gaped like a fish.

" _Shirtless_?" England snarled.

America choked down a laugh. "Well, naked. I had to hide behind the curtain. He handed me my clothes." He shot Jaune a wicked grin, one that was reflected by Nora.

A horrified look crossed Jaune's face. "Alfred,  _no_."

America schooled his expression into a pseudo-solemn facade. "Look, Jaune. I have to be honest with you. You can't just barge into the shower to see me naked. I know I have a pretty face but you need to respect my boundaries. I'm ace, so I'm not interested in that stuff. Besides, you're with Pyrrha. You shouldn't gape at other people."

Pyrrha gave an undignified snort. She lowered her head to her arm, shoulders shaking with laughter. Jaune looked scandalized.

" _You're merciless."_  Vale cackled.  _"I like it."_

"It's not like that. You  _know_  it's not like that.  _Stop making it like that!_ " Jaune shrieked, covering his face.

"You brought this upon yourself when you barged in when I was showering. I  _told_  you I wasn't decent." America said remorselessly. He looked directly at Jaune and mouthed ' _Vengeance_.'

Jaune got the message and slammed his head into the tabletop with a whine. "I'm  _sorry_  I walked in on you, okay?"

England glared daggers at Jaune.

France burst out laughing.

Not nearly so overprotective— silly England— Canada covered his smile with his hand. "How scandalous. Arthur, do we need to beat Jaune up now?"

"I'm considering it." England growled.

" _Arrrrrgggggghhhhh!_ " Jaune wailed.

America reached out and pushed Penny's sword down before it could flick up to her shoulder. "Still joking around, Penny."

"I'm not." England muttered.

"Yes, Jaune broke in, but only because he had to go to the bathroom." America said.

"Why did he need to travel to the bathroom at that time?" Penny growled.

"He had to pee, Penny." Blake explained bluntly.

Penny's expression cleared. "I see. It was still very rude."

Jaune relaxed.

"Wait,  _you_  broke the door?" Weiss demanded.

Jaune tensed. "No—"

"Yes." Penny said.

"You weren't there." Jaune challenged. "You have no proof."

"Alfred was there. As you know." Yang said, an evil grin curling her lips.

" _Stop_." Jaune whined.

"You walked into that one." Yang paused and smirked. "Literally."

" _Stooooooooooopppp._ "

"He broke the door." America confirmed.

"You will pay for the new door." Winter stated, daring Jaune to argue.

Jaune planted his head into his arms, still allowing everyone to hear his muffled screaming. Pyrrha patted his hair consolingly. America decided his vengeance was complete and left the poor knight alone. They finished their meal and America helped clear the table. Penny followed his every step, shooting suspicious glances at Jaune, and America had to stifle a laugh.

"We were joking, Penny." he reminded her softly. "Jaune had to go, nothing more."

Penny frowned but nodded. America looked back at the table and saw it was half-empty. Almost everyone was hurrying to their rooms and back, and when they emerged, each of them carried weapons. Canada spotted him looking and slowed, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"We have another mission." he admitted.

America… was not surprised. Not in the slightest. No one else looked blindsided by news of a mission either. He was the only one they did not tell.  _Again_. He smiled because he was supposed to, even as something squeezed his heart. "Oh."

" _Here we go again."_  Vale sighed, resigned.

Worried violet eyes studied America. "Will you be okay?"

"Yep." America said- _not_ -lied. "Not all of you are going, right?"

"I'm being left behind.  _Again_." Australia complained.

"Oscar, Romano, Feliciano, and I are remaining as well." France added.

"And I'll stay with the Relic." Nora groaned, slouching in her seat. "It's not like you'll need any explosions."

"We will certainly not." Winter muttered.

Nora crossed her arms and pouted.

"Great. So I'll have company. I also have my bat to bash the evil monsters with." America said sarcastically. "I'll be nice and safe."

Canada bit his lip guiltily.

America sighed and hugged his brother. "Hey, I'm okay. And I'll  _be_  okay. I…" He struggled to get the next words out. "I understand why I can't go. So don't worry. I'm cool. I won't do anything dumb. And no one will get me while you're gone."

"Any who threaten Alfred F. Jones shall be destroyed." Penny stated.

"Thank you, Penny." America said.

She stared at Jaune.

"No, Penny." America sighed.

Penny's stare never wavered. "I am…  _joking_."

"I honestly can't tell if she is." Jaune squeaked.

America chuckled and patted Canada's arm. "Go kick some Grimm butt. Have fun."

"They won't have fun because  _someone_  doesn't know what that is." Nora said loudly.

Winter sighed, looking to the sky for patience. Canada opened his mouth but closed it, keeping whatever he wanted to say to himself. The Huntsmen, Huntresses, and accompanying nations gathered near the doorway, and America made sure to grab Cobalt Striker and wear it across his back. Canada sighed, noticing his probably-petty actions, but did not comment. Whitley and Klein were also there, with the teen holding a briefcase in one hand.

"We are going to meet a possible investor to make an agreement." he explained when America shot him a questioning look. "I admit it is less flashy than hunting Grimm but—"

"It's still important." Weiss interrupted gently. "Thank you for doing this, Whitley."

"Of course." He perked up, gripping the handle of the briefcase with both hands. America was starkly reminded of am eager child holding an over-sized lunch box. That comparison was not exactly fair. Whitley was young, but he proved to be competent.

"Bye, bro." America said, hugging Canada. "Cause trouble. Make Francis proud."

"No." England said flatly.

France chuckled.

They departed, but Ruby lingered by America, clasping her hands together. "Hey, Alfred..."

America raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah?"

"Well, I uh. I just wanted to tell you..." She hesitated and paled. "Um.  _Haveaniceday_."

America's brow furrowed but he shrugged off her awkwardness. This  _was_  Ruby, after all. "Sure. You too."

Ruby nodded rapidly and hurried after the others in a rush of rose petals. The door shut with a click and America turned around to find everyone except Penny gone. He rolled his eyes, not surprised. They had spent all day together yesterday. For those like Romano, it must have been horrific.

"Do you wish to return to your bedroom?" Penny asked.

America thought of the enticing bed that he could not sleep in but did not really want to leave and shook his head. "Nah. We've been in that room too much already. We can hang out here."

"Acknowledged." Penny sat on the couch.

"Want to watch?" America asked, gesturing at the screen.

Penny nodded. "That activity is satisfactory at this time."

America set Cobalt Striker down and sat on the couch beside her, picking up the remote. The screen clicked on as a scorpion stabbed its prey with its tail. America cringed and turned to the next channel, only for it to be a gory war movie. He changed the channel again, wincing as a talk show declared their next story was about the status of Vale. The channel after that was no better, with a woman screaming as she was chased down by a monster.

"This is more appropriate for night time." He sighed. The next channel showed a couple kissing passionately in the rain. "Boring." The next was a nature documentary. "Nope." The next had a man behind a desk, droning about economics. "Absolutely not." He quickly covered Penny's eyes at the next one. " _What the f—_  Don't they know  _kids_ might be up?"

America flicked the channel and grimaced when he saw it was the news. Penny moved his hand away from her eyes.

"— _and today we get to meet the four puppies of a local Pomeranian."_  the news anchor was saying.

Nora poked her head into the room. "Did I hear someone say puppies?"

Australia appeared out of thin air like he'd been summoned in one of England's rituals. " _Puppies_?"

They dashed over, plopping down next to America and Penny. America stifled a chuckle at their enthusiasm. He noted the Relic of Creation in its holster on Nora's back but soon found his gaze drawn to the screen as a tiny Pomeranian toddled across the screen. It squeaked as it wandered over to its siblings and mother, who watched it serenely.

America blinked, smiling.  _Wow. There's actually a nice story for once._

" _Dawwwwww."_  Vale squealed.

"They're so  _fluffy_." Nora cooed.

"Do they have names?" Australia asked.

"Please be silent, Jett-Australia Kirkland." Penny hissed, watching the screen intently.

Apparently they were named Shiny, Starlight, Silver, and Blossom. America did not know why Blossom did not match the S theme but he guessed it was the owner's choice. Or maybe the owner's kid got to name one. The news anchor shared how they were up for adoption and gave contact information.

"The puppies are... endearing." Penny said as she watched Blossom and Silver tussle. Silver fell onto his back, wiggling about in bewilderment, and the mother Pomeranian carefully nudged her pup back onto his feet.

"Do you want one?" America asked, half-joking.

Penny's head tipped. "Not yet. I would need to access further information but having a pet appears to be a complicated and time-consuming affair. I would not be able to care for a pet now."

America's smile faded. "Someday, then. Once this is over, maybe—"

" _In our next story, the tale of the horrific fall of Atlas continues to unfold."_

A large banner appeared on the screen and declared 'MASS GRAVE FOUND UNDER ATLAS!'

America froze, finger on the channel button.

Lisa Lavender stared out at him through the screen, lips set in a grim line.  _"After delays due to the ongoing riots in the City of Atlas, investigators have finally uncovered the graves of over two hundred bodies. Among the dead are estimated to be at least twenty children, eleven of which have been confirmed to be Faunus. Investigators say that it is almost impossible to identify the victims, and at the current time, it is unknown whether these victims were killed due to hate crimes or by the infamous Transformation Institute. As many viewers are aware, the Transformation Institute was a brainwashing facility located in the Atlas mines and run by General James Ironwood—"_

A picture of Ironwood appeared on the screen. America felt as if the General's dark blue eyes were staring directly into his soul.

"— _who remains in custody after his capture one week ago. It is currently unclear if he is responsible for the deaths of those victims, but investigators promise justice will served."_ Lisa shuffled her papers. _"Continuing with our coverage of the Atlas Riots, at least five hundred are dead in ongoing skirmishes between the rebels and soldiers throughout the city. Early last night a group of peaceful, unarmed protesters were gunned down by soldiers while their leader pleaded with both sides for the violence to stop. It is still unknown who released footage of the Institute and supplied the rebels with weapons, but thanks to them, now the people's cries for freedom have been heard around the world. Thanks to Cyril Ian, our brave reporter on the front lines, we now bring you footage from war-zone that was once the capital of Atlas. Please be advised, the content you are about to watch contains graphic imagery—"_

Nora snatched the remote from America's hands and shut it off. The four of them stared at the black screen in silence. America reached for the remote but Nora held it away from him.

"You don't need to see that." she said quietly. " _I_  don't need to see that."

Her eyes flicked past him and America looked back at Australia. The brown-haired nation's tan skin was ashen, and he trembled visibly. America looked at his own hands and was not surprised to see them quivering. His fingers curled into fists.

_Would Ironwood do that?_ Nausea churned his stomach. _They're kids._ _ **Kids**_ _._

" _I don't know."_  Vale said helplessly.  _"The news— They said nothing was confirmed. The investigators **could**  be giving false information to further incriminate Ironwood but..."_

America wiped at his eyes, covering them with his palm. Penny wrapped her fingers around his loose hand, squeezing them lightly. A gasp startled him and he looked back, heart sinking when he spotted Oscar in the doorway. America rose and hurried over to the boy, shoving his own grief and horror away. Oscar looked up at him with too-round hazel eyes.

"I don't..." he whispered. "I don't..."

"Hey." America soothed him. "It's okay. The Institute is finished. You're  _safe_. Nothing else can be done."

Oscar shook his head wildly, hardly seeming to hear him. "How could Ironwood do that?"

America flinched, covering his mouth.

"It is not confirmed that James Ironwood is responsible for ordering those deaths." Penny said bluntly. "If he is, he will  _not_  harm anyone else." She abruptly reached out, grabbing both Australia and Nora's hands. Both started but did not pull away.

"He'd better not." Australia choked, hiding his face.

America's stomach tried to fold in on itself. "Did Ironwood… visit you?" he forced himself to ask. He had never considered the possibility. He  _should_  have. But of course he did not because he had to make  _everything_  about him—  _Brain, quit it._

"No." Australia said.

"Non." France entered the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest and his fingers digging into his elbows. "He did not show up in my cell either. Only Atlas did."

America shivered, unsure whether he should feel relieved or guilty. If Ironwood was as big of a monster as the news claimed, then every recent interaction America had with him was a thousand times worse. He had let Ironwood live. He had been convinced he was redeemable. Worst of all, he'd felt  _bad_  for the man….

Someone knocked on the door.

Nora leaped to her feet. So did Penny, and her weapons clicked out of her backpack. America put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

"Hide." he whispered.

Penny looked ready to protest but stopped, nodding sharply. She grabbed Nora's arm and hurried into the other room, shutting the door. Australia raced away and came back, handing France his weapon while Oscar hovered nearby, his cane in his hand. America scooped Cobalt Striker up from next to the couch and hesitantly approached the door. He peered through the peephole, recognizing Charon. He lowered his weapon and opened the door.

"Doctor Charon?"

"Alfred." the doctor greeted. His gaze rested on Cobalt Striker but he did not comment on its presence. "May I come in?"

America stepped back, sheathing his weapon. Australia sat down on the couch, balancing his pistols on his knees. America took a second to study the doctor. He looked more tired than ever, as if there was an additional weight on his shoulders. Despite Vale's warnings, America felt his heart ache with sympathy.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Charon jumped, visibly startled by the question. "I could be better." he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I apologize for not calling again, but I'm afraid it was best not to risk it."

Alarm bells rang in America's head.

Charon cleared his throat. "How are you doing today?"

"Don't drag your heels with smalltalk." Australia demanded, instantly on edge. "What's going on?"

"You're… right. I shouldn't delay." Charon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked at America. "There is no gentle way to say this. Ironwood wishes to speak with you."

"Ironwood _what_?" Australia demanded.

America's face drained of color. "...What? Why? H-How does he know I'm here?"

"We don't know." Charon said tersely."However, if you speak to him, he has agreed to give us vital information."

America stared at him mutely.

"What kind of information?" Australia demanded.

Charon's gaze darkened. "The names of everyone killed in the Institute. Files on every prisoner. Locations of certain parties. And… a list of the men who are still loyal to him and would attempt to break him out."

America felt cold. "The graves..." he whispered.

"You saw the news, I suppose." Charon grimaced. "He refuses to confirm whether they are victims of the Institute or not. And it is becoming more and more difficult to get into Atlas at all. The remaining loyal soldiers have found out about Ironwood's capture and are rallying behind a new leader who likely intends to close off the city and stage a 'rescue' once its secured. Our time window is closing rapidly to give closure to his victims."

America's gorge rose.

" _Don't puke."_  Vale begged.

"It is completely your choice. You do not have to meet him if you do not want to." Charon said firmly.

Oddly enough, America believed him. It appeared that the latest revelations had dulled the righteous, single-minded flame that drove the doctor, allowing him to step back and consider the smaller people involved in his investigation. People that deserved closure.

_If Ironwood was innocent, why would he not give this information freely? Why would he keep it to himself?_

" _Because he wants to see_ _ **you**_ _."_  Vale said.

Pins pricked at America's exposed flesh. He rubbed his arms, rocking on the soles of his feet, and looked up. "I'll do it." As if there was another choice.

" _Non_ , Alfred." France said instantly.

America held up a hand. "They need to know what happened, Francis." he said softly. " _I_  need to know."

France's protests died. He nodded once. "Then I am going too." he said, but his voice shook.

"As am I." Australia growled. He glared at the doctor, daring him to argue.

"And me." Oscar blurted. He fiddled with his cane. "I— I need to see him. He hurt a lot of people..."

Charon's gaze softened. "You were part of the rescue team, correct?"

Oscar nodded.

Charon looked between the four of them. "Very well. We will allow you to carry your weapons with you,  _if_  you promise you do not attack him."

"Oh sure. I'd never even consider it. Why would I ever shoot a  _child-killing psychopath_?" Australia growled.

America's shoulders hunched.  _I_ _ **felt bad**_ _for him._

" _It's not confirmed."_  Vale reminded him. She hesitated.  _"But you still need to be careful during this… discussion. Alfred, we've weakened. If we're killed again I don't know if we'll **ever wake up**."_

America's stomach roiled and he retched. Australia grabbed a trashcan but America shoved it away. "I'm fine." he croaked.

"You do not need to do this." Charon insisted.

"I want to." America said. He swallowed roughly and glanced uncertainly behind him. "I just… need to…"

Charon stepped back. "Get what you must. We may go when you are ready."

America forced a smile and fled into his room. Penny and Nora crouched by the door, leaning against the walls on both sides. The hammer-wielding girl's alarmed expression suggested she heard their conversation. Penny's blank look said the same.

"I will accompany you." Penny said before Nora could speak.

America shook his head. "Penny, you can't go. They might deactivate you if they recognize you."

Penny's expression twisted unhappily but she covered it with a smooth look. "Then Nora Valkyrie and I shall guard the Relic of Creation while you are gone." she declared.

America smiled. "Thanks."

He silently sent a text to Canada, England, Pyrrha, and Japan to tell them where they were going. He would not be surprised if they all came rampaging back to rip Charon's head off for asking America to do this, but by the time they returned, it should all be over. He took a single moment to let his panic out, hunching over with his hands pressed to his mouth, then let them slide down his face to fall limply at his sides.

"Okay." he said. "Okay."

Nora clutched his forearm, meeting his eyes. "Don't get kidnapped."

"If you are, we will rescue you." Penny vowed darkly, weapons flicking at her shoulders.

America smiled. "I know."

He exited the room, shutting the door behind him, and turned back to Charon and his friends. He pretended not to notice that both Australia and France's weapons had full cartridges when they had not just minutes before.

"I'm ready." he said, and led the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing Monday and Friday updates again.


	8. Cracked

Nora watched Alfred, Francis, Jett, and Oscar get into Doctor Charon's car, waving despite how they would be unable to see her. The vehicle was a really pretty blue sedan— blue like the sky— and Nora guessed it was rented. Well  _duh_ , of course it was rented. The Atlas guys did not exactly live here. She wondered if that would change, considering Atlas—

No, she was  _not_  going to think about that. She was going to think about the cute puppies they saw on the news earlier, and finally get to know the mysterious new Penny. Nora grinned at said new Penny, who stared back, unblinking. It was kinda creepy—with those cold green eyes and porcelain features Penny almost looked like a doll— but Nora did not let the creepiness get her down. The new Penny was just weird, and weird was another word for 'fun' in her humble opinion.

"So. What do you want to do while the boys are out?" she asked eagerly.

"Feliciano Vargas and Lovino-Romano Vargas are of the male gender and could be considered 'boys'. They are here, not 'out'. And we are meant to guard the Relic of Creation." Penny said.

Nora rolled her eyes. "The Relic is right here."

She patted the paintbrush-torch-thingie, careful to avoid the flame-like bristles. Ozpin hinted that touching them would lead to bad things and even Nora was not wild enough to want to poke a reality-warping tool to see what happened. Well,  _maybe_  she was but whenever she thought about it Ren's deadpan ' _No_ , Nora.' face would appear in her brain and stop her.

"We can do other things while guarding it." When Penny failed to respond, Nora nudged her. "Come  _on_ , you were fine earlier. Why are you being a sourpuss now?"

"Definition of 'Sourpuss': 'a bad-tempered or sullen person'. I am not a 'sourpuss'." Penny stated.

Wow. She was more closed-off than Blake and Weiss combined. But she was much more open when Alfred was around. Nora was not very observant sometimes, but it was obvious something was...  _different_  with him gone. It shouldn't be. She and new-Penny were friends. And friends looked out for each other.

"Are you okay?" Nora asked.

"I am running at optimal capacity."

"Okay, I  _know_  you know what I meant." Nora said impatiently. "Spill."

"I am not carrying anything containing a liquid." Penny stated. "If I were, spilling it would likely be counterproductive."

"Tell me the truth." Nora said flatly, not allowing her to 'misinterpret' the demand.

Penny avoided meeting her eyes. "I… do not like being separated from Alfred. There is a substantial amount of evidence that bad things happen whenever I am separated from him."

Nora frowned. "You need to get out more."

Penny twitched, fingers closing to press against her palms. "Increasing the amount of time separated will only increase the chance of bad things happening through correlation—"

"Hey, hey." Nora interrupted, regretting her rash statement. "It's fine. It's okay if you want to stay with Alfred. But you'll be okay on your own. The data isn't as connected as you think."

Green eyes locked with hers and Nora could not deny the distress in them. "I do not worry for myself."

A piercing scream came from the Vargas brothers' room and both girls reached for their weapons. Before Nora could find a target, Feliciano fled into the living room, brown eyes wide with terror. He grabbed Penny's arm, pointing frantically back at the room he came from as he hid behind her.

"There!" he shrieked. " _There—!_ "

Penny frowned at him, tugging her arm lightly in an attempt to dislodge him. When that failed to work, she stopped, lips pressed into a thin line of irritation.

"Please release me." she requested, with an unvoiced but implied 'Or I will make you'.

Feliciano did not hear her. "There here—" He wheezed.  _ **They're**_ ,  _not there_ , Nora belatedly realized. "Outside— They're  _outside_."

"...Did you see a spider or something?" Nora asked skeptically.

Feliciano could become easily frightened under certain circumstances, but Nora had to admit she had never seen him like this. Never this…  _frantic_. When his older brother came in— looking more irritated than usual— she guessed this was a common occurrence.

"There was a spider on the curtain." Lovino groused. "A big black one. Feliciano looked outside and freaked."

Feliciano moaned. His skin was a pale, sickly white. He clung to Penny's arm, trembling visible. Lovino had no sympathy for him.

"Get a  _grip_." he snapped.

Feliciano stiffened, and Nora realized he was shrinking. Not shrinking.  _Sinking_. She watched as he sank through the floor, taking Penny with him. Nora stared at the spot they had gone through, indecisive on whether she should laugh or not. Did Feliciano die of fright and turn into a ghost? That was a sad way to go.

Lovino growled, eye twitching and not the slightest bit saddened by his brother's apparent demise. Memory clicked and Nora giggled. Oh,  _right_. Feliciano had an intangibility Semblance. It was cool to see it in action. He should probably learn to control it though. Maybe Ren could help. Ren always had that wise-mentor-thing going on with him.

A knock on the door distracted Nora and she walked over to it.

Lovino finally reacted and palmed his face. "Idiotic little brother."

Nora snorted and opened the door with a smile.

Tyrian Callows smiled back at her.

XXXXXXX

Charon's car pulled to a stop at the edge of town. America got out of the back seat and eyed the closest Atlesian airship with distaste. The airships throughout the shipyard varied in side, from small cargo ships to hulking behemoths. Frontier's shipyard had plenty of room, though it had more than usual due to the lost trade with Atlas.

America had to wonder what the locals thought about the Atlesian ships and officials lurking in their city. At least none were warships. Charon led them to the medical airship and America took a moment to study the huge vessel, which still would be dwarfed by Ironwood's old flagships. With the spike-like turrets and menacing bulk of the vessel, if he did not know it was meant to be a relief ship, he would swear it was just another ship for war.

" _Atlas always did like to show off her strength."_  Vale spat.

_Do you know the layout?_  America asked, already planning for an escape.

" _Not the modern one. The last medship I... 'toured' was an older model."_

As they passed up the gangplank, America shoved his hands into his pockets. He immediately took them out, glancing nervously at the guards at the entrance. They did not try to shoot him for 'reaching for a weapon', though he should have known that. These men were not the soldiers who beat up and arrested people for looking at them funny. Besides, America had a weapon on his back. If they were okay with that, they would not attack him for putting his hands where they could not see them. Hopefully.

The hallways were wider than America expected, allowing the ship's occupants to walk past each other with little risk of bumping shoulders. The further they went, the more soldiers appeared. Despite their increased presence, the trek through the airship was almost casual, if not for the occasional flash of Charon's badge. Apparently the guards knew America was coming. He was not sure what to feel about that. They descended deeper into the airship, going by another set of guards and America heard one whisper to the other.

"Why are there Huntsmen here?" one soldier asked the other.

His partner glanced at America and quickly looked away. "Oh. That's the one Ironwood stalked and attacked. The one mentioned in all the notes."

"Ah." the first guard cringed.

America felt their eyes on his back and forced himself not to turn around and sharply correct their misconceptions. The instinct to remain non-confrontational in order to avoid a bullet to the head— or a knife to the shoulders— was hard to discard. He rubbed his arms, glancing around self-consciously as they passed over a wide open space filled with bridges.

The bridges were thin, with only a measly metal railing between the soldiers and a long drop. America peered down into the darkness below and wondered what could be down there. He did not wonder long, immediately forgetting his question in favor of keeping up with Charon. The Atlas soldiers ignored him and the treacherous gaps they walked over, continuing with their tasks. The clean halls of the airship reminded America too much of the lab. The smell was different but still carried the sharp tang of alcohol. He shivered and abruptly Australia pushed past him, walking behind Charon.

America shot him a befuddled look he did not see. He chalked it up to Australia's impatience and hopefully not a desire for a chance to jump Ironwood. Seeing Australia in front of him did help America keep his head as they passed more and more soldiers. He was not in the lab, the cell, or the Institute being led to new tortures because Australia was here and he could hear France flirting with almost every soldier they passed behind him.

They entered a narrow hall, and France's flirting ceased. Unlike the rest of the airship, this area was cramped. Two people could still walk side by side, but they would likely smack shoulders. America eyed the cell doors lined along the walls and his stomach curled into knots. A female soldier bumped into him and he twitched, barely keeping himself from reaching for Cobalt Striker. The soldier eyed him, recognition flashing over her face, and she hurried away, speaking into her communicator.

"He's here—" was all America heard before Charon spoke.

"Ironwood is in the interrogation room." he said. "I promise you, he is restrained. I fear we do not have a side-room with which to view you so we will be watching through the security cameras a few rooms down."

"Well ain't that a design flaw." Australia growled before America could respond.

"We are not a vessel meant to hold prisoners. We only have cells because they are standard for all military airships." Charon defended.

"For non-investigators you seem pretty used to this, then." Australia said coolly, crossing his arms.

America's stomach did another flip and he chewed on his lip. They stopped in front of a door that did not look much different than the others. There was no sign for what normally lay within it, and America had to wonder what it was usually used for. He stared at the door queasily.

He was supposedly brave yet here he stood, trembling in his boots at the thought of seeing a man who abducted him and his brother, imprisoned them, allowed him to be dissected, threatened his brother, forced another soul into his body, threatened to shoot him, drugged him— Okay, maybe it was not so strange. That last one was still fresh in America's mind. He could still the terrifying numbness that nearly pulled him into oblivion as Ironwood injected him again and again and again—

" _Breathe, Alfred."_  Vale said.  _"You can do this."_

America breathed.

Charon watched America carefully, spotting every twitch of emotion that passed over his face. "You do not have to do this, lad."

"I want to." America said, even as he rubbed the side of his neck where the needles had pierced his skin—

Charon nodded. "Very well."

America handed Australia Cobalt Striker, reminding himself that he had both Semblances if Ironwood tried anything. The guards opened the door and— steeling himself— America walked in. It shut behind him with a click, leaving him alone with the General.

Ironwood sat alone at a table in the center of the room. He was chained to the chair, with his manacles hands resting atop a small table. His hair was unkempt, his scars bright red against his ashen skin, and his chin covered with stubble and dirt and blood clung to his uniform. America was surprised the men allowed him to keep his military ensemble. If there was symbolism there, he failed to see it. America crossed the room and sat down in the empty chair despite his instincts urging him to run. Ironwood did not look at him, tracing a bolt on his metal arm.

America hid his quivering hands under the table. "You… wanted to see me?"

Ironwood still did not raise his head, continuing to trace the bolt. "Yes." he said, and his voice was raspy, either from disuse or… something else. The pained undertone hinted it was  _definitely_  something else.

America swallowed, drumming his fingers together. "Why?"

"I wanted to see you were alive." Ironwood rasped.

America's skin crawled and he leaned back in his seat. "Why? Are you still insisting you care about my well-being?"

Dark blue eyes glanced at him briefly, giving him a clear view of the scars over Ironwood's eye, and America froze, heart in his throat. Logically, he knew that this time Ironwood was in chains while he was free, but seeing the General's harsh stare was enough to set off even his lacking self-preservation instincts. Yet there were no drugs. No guns pointed at his face. No machines or knives or scalpels.

Ironwood was in chains. America was  _free_.

America stared at Ironwood steadily. "I felt bad for you once, you know." he said. "Out of some… twisted form of compassion or empathy. You had noble reasons for what you did, so you could not be a straight-up villain, right?" Ironwood did not reply. America did not expect him to. "Even after you had your men beat me up and experiment on me, even after you used my body for your own needs, even after you kept trying to capture me again and again, I still thought 'He had his reasons, so he can't be all bad.'" His folded hands quivered. "Was it because you didn't do most of it yourself? Was it because you treated me like I was human when others didn't? Was it because you didn't—" He barely stopped himself from saying 'shove me into the Aura machine' "—do anything to me while I was unconscious and apologized for what you did when I woke up? Does any of that sound right?"

Ironwood remained stoically silent.

America chuckled hollowly. "Yeah, it's messed up. But I'm only a bit messed up thanks to  _you_." He placed his right hand on his left under the table, digging his nails into the back of his hand. "But enough about me. I'm not the only one you hurt. Did you order your men to kill those people found in the grave?"

Ironwood's eyes closed but he did not reply. His posture did not change. He gave no indication he even heard the question. America's anger flared.

"Why didn't you shoot me too, huh?" he demanded. "Why am I different? You didn't hesitate to shoot  _children_  and leave their bodies in a ditch—"

_BANG!_

Ironwood's chains rattled as he slammed his hands on the table, teeth bared in a snarl. "I  _never_  killed children.  _How dare you accuse me of that!_ "

America stiffened but did not recoil. "Then why were their bodies in a mass grave?" he whispered.

Ironwood stared at him, and all the strength left his body. He slumped in his chair, head bowed, and once again his flesh hand gripped the metal one.

"I didn't know." Ironwood said quietly.  _Brokenly_. "Ciel Soleil was the one  _personally_  in charge of the Institute. I… only visited from time to time."

America felt numb as he realized the implications of his words. "You could have stopped it."

"Yes." Ironwood said.

"You  _didn't_ stop it." America said.

"Yes."

"Do you regret it?" America asked, fingers locked tightly together.

"...The Institute? Yes." Ironwood said.

_But not what you did to me and Mattie,_  America read between the lines. "So… you think my pain was worth it? My brother's pain? Our family's?"  _Our world's?_

Ironwood looked at him, then away, staring at his metal arm. "I… cannot say. I gained what I desired in the end. I cannot deny the results."

_You kept Vale's power from going to Salem's forces so you think it_ _ **was**_ _worth it in the end,_  America translated.

He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to slug Ironwood. Yet a part of him could objectively understand the General's conflicted feelings. He could not imagine what would have happened if the twins were never abducted. Things could be worse, or better for both worlds. It did not matter. The past was the past. It could not be undone.

He still could not forgive Ironwood. He could not even make himself try.

And maybe Ironwood could not forgive himself either.

They would both have to live with the consequences of the General's decisions.

"You wanted to save the world, but you killed  _thousands_  in the process." America said coldly. "You only saw the big picture, but now you can't blind yourself to what you  _really_  did in the name of your Kingdom. But it doesn't matter anymore." He leaned forward, and did not hate himself for his icy, unforgiving tone. "You're done. You can't ' _save_ ' anyone else when you're in here." America's lingering fear drifted away and he felt a weight fall from his shoulders, leaving him feeling less burdened than he had in a while. "You'll  _never_  hurt me again."

Ironwood stiffened. His head tipped, as if he were listening to something America could not hear. His gaze snapped up to lock with America's, and the nation was struck speechless by the intensity in them. Something flickered through the General's expression and he nodded once.

"You're right." Ironwood said softly, and twisted the bolt on his right arm.

Something roared and a tremor rocked the earth, knocking America off his feet. He hit the hard metal floor and made to rise as he heard the  _snap_  of breaking metal. An arm wrapped around his throat as the barrel of a gun pressed against his head and his muscles locked. His paralysis faded as distant gunfire and screams reached his ears and lightning flared over his skin. Ironwood did not seem to feel it.

"My men already have your friends." Ironwood said calmly. "One is… shall we say,  _less durable_  than others."

_Oscar._  America froze and the lightning vanished.

" _It's a trick."_  Vale said.

But what if it  _wasn't_?

Ironwood's grip on America's throat tightened. "Look at the security feed for Room 20C. And  _only_  that room." he said coldly.

America slowly lifted his Scroll, acutely aware of the gun and Vale's warning. The blood drained from his face when he saw the room. France and Australia were thrashing in the holds of three soldiers each, while Charon was already on the ground, seemingly knocked out cold. Oscar stood to the side with a gun to his head, eyes round with fear as he raised trembling hands. America felt his will to fight wash away.

" _Not again."_  Vale croaked.  _"Not again. Please. Please Gods—"_

"Lieutenant!" Ironwood barked towards the door.

The female soldier from before walked in, granting America a brief glimpse of the two guards' limp bodies. It was not hard to figure out where Ironwood had gotten the gun from. She took one look at America and calmly removed something from the pouch at his waist, clamping it around his neck with a soft  _click_. America did not need to feel a needle to know what it was.

"That's a final gift from Polendina. If you use your Aura or  _either_  of your Semblances, that will activate." Ironwood said calmly. "And let me warn you now: I have direct contact with the men who have your friends."

America eyed the 'bolt' on Ironwood's arm and realized it was some type of communicator. His understanding came too late. He glanced at the metal plate on the General's head and wondered if it was tech too. As thick handcuffs clicked closed around his wrists, anger and fear warred inside him—  _Not again. Not again. Not again._ — and he could not settle on one or the other. He ultimately decided to cuss out Ironwood even as his voice shook.

"You better leave them alone you sick son of a bitch or I'll—"

"There is nothing you can do to me." Ironwood interrupted. "I have already lost everything."

A chill went up America's spine. No man was more dangerous than one who had nothing left to lose.

"I have lost everything except  _you_." Ironwood continued, almost to himself. The General's grip tightened across America's throat.

America gasped for air, clawing at the arm crushing his windpipe.  _He's lost it. Oh God. He's really lost it._

" _Okay, we need a plan."_  Vale said, as panicked as he felt.

America came up with a blank. He was dragged from the room and into the hall, past the guard's slumped bodies. Every step took him closer to yet another prison, but instead of falling into fear, his mind cleared. His gaze darted around the hall, seeking an escape,  _any_  escape. He settled for dragging his feet, not daring to do more until he could figure out his friends' exact statuses. Ironwood frowned and yanked on his arm, keeping him at his side. Another guard grabbed his other arm and they marched him down the hall. For a moment, helpless anger completely overcame his fear and America glared at the General.

"Why are you doing this again?" America demanded.

"I told you. I  _need_   _you_ , Alfred." Ironwood said in a serene, unsettling tone.

His flesh hand cupped America's cheek, and his fingers curled up next to the nation's green eye. America recoiled. Did the interrogators brainwash Ironwood into believing he was the stalker the vague reports painted him as or something? Knowing how some of Atlas's interrogators— and investigations— worked, America would honestly not be surprised. Or had Ironwood snapped on his own and decided keeping Vale for himself would somehow end in his redemption? The thought infuriated America, yet that anger could no longer fully quell the fear coiling in his stomach.

"Let me  _go_." America commanded, somehow sounding less uneasy than he felt.

"I'm sorry, Alfred." Ironwood said, almost gently. "I can't. I will do what I must." He leaned in and his lips almost brushed America's ear. The nation shrank away but the General's next words froze him in place. " _They're here._ "

America felt cold. He did not need to ask who "They" were. He was not sure if he wanted to laugh, or scream, or cry. Instead he stared at Ironwood unflinchingly as they passed onto the thin walkways.

"You're doing it again." he said hollowly. "How many people are your men killing right now?"

Ironwood tensed.

America chuckled without mirth. "You never changed. You're killing more people so you can keep me for yourself. You don't deserve forgiveness."

"I know." Ironwood said in resigned agreement, and America hated him for it.

XXXXXXX

_How did this happen?_

Oscar walked passively between two soldiers, constantly aware of the gun to his head. The soldiers had not relieved him of Ozpin's cane, but they did not seem to feel the need to. Oscar was small, and young, and inexperienced, and yet the soldiers had no qualms about threatening to shoot him if his companions acted out of line. That stopped Francis and Jett from fighting, while Charon was unconscious and being dragged between two soldiers. Honestly, Oscar should have seen this coming. If he had learned anything about the soldiers of Atlas was threats were their go-to response. As was harming those they should be allied with.

" _Ironwood always was tenacious and driven to achieve his goals."_  Ozpin said wearily.  _"I do wish that he would stop his pursuit of this one."_

Oscar dare not speak and ask what the General was trying to do. If he had to guess, Alfred's recapture was Ironwood's goal. Apparently the loyal soldiers that Charon worried about were already here, and had somehow succeeded in planning with Ironwood right under his wardens' noses. In hindsight, it was blatantly obvious Ironwood was planning something like this. Why else would he want to see Alfred? But it was too late. The trap was sprung, and all of them were caught off guard.

" _Oscar, let me take over."_  Ozpin urged.  _"We need to get to Alfred. Ironwood cannot be allowed to take him."_

"No, really?" Oscar muttered.

"What did you say?" one soldier snapped.

Oscar tensed, eyeing the man's gun nervously. "I was j-just—"

"Leave the kid alone." Jett snarled, shoving the soldier with his shoulder.

The man instantly turned on him with his gun pointed at Jett's face, and Oscar held his breath. Yes, Jett had Aura and could heal, but his hands were tied behind his back, and Oscar would not put it past these men to shoot him until blood sprayed.

"Stand down." the soldier warned coldly.

"No. I don't appreciate being used as a hostage." Jett spat.

The soldier scowled dangerously, finger twitching towards the trigger. He abruptly raised the gun and fired. Jett stumbled back, wincing briefly, and another soldier brought his gun down on his head, forcing him down to his knees. Jett panted, a pained look on his face, and the guard laid the barrel of his gun against his forehead.

"Stop it!" Oscar blurted, stepping forward.

The gun instantly turned on him and pointed his gun between his eyes. Oscar's heart leaped into his throat. Francis inhaled sharply, skin blanching.

"I don't want to hurt you, boy." the soldier claimed coldly. "But I will if you keep resisting—"

Francis lashed out and kicked the soldier in the side of his knee. The man fell with a howl and Francis headbutted his other guard, sweeping the legs out from under the third. Jett slammed into the one carrying Charon and socked him in the jaw, sending him crumpling like a bag of rocks. Oscar unsheathed Ozpin's cane and struck another soldier rapidly, hitting the weak points in his armor and felling him with a blow to the throat. A bullet whizzed past him and he gasped, spinning in time to see the first soldier back on his feet, gun aimed at him.

Blue cloth filled his vision and Francis threw himself in front of Oscar as the soldier fired. The soldier instantly stumbled back with a gasp, clutching at his stomach, and his finger's came away red. Francis tackled the man and smashed his head into the metal floor until he went limp. Jett grabbed his weapon and blindly tossed Francis his, briefly checking on Charon.

"He's unconscious." Jett said rapidly. He lifted the doctor onto his shoulder. "We have to—  _France!_ "

Oscar jumped, unprepared for the usage of Francis's country name. He glanced at the blond-haired man and saw him punching the first guard. The soldier's visor cracked and chipped away, revealing closed eyes and limp features, yet Francis kept attacking, punching the soldier again and again and again until his knuckles were bloody. Jett grabbed his arm and Francis turned on him, a wild look in his eyes. Oscar backed away, unsettled by the glazed stare, but Jett remained firm, holding Francis's hand.

"Oi. The kid's okay. I'm okay. We're all okay." he said soothingly. Glazed blue eyes stared past him. "Look at me, Francis."

Blue eyes snapped to him, filled with azure fire that would devour anyone who got too close.

"I am  _France_." Francis snarled and Oscar's muscles locked with primal desire to flee from the viciousness there.

"I know." Jett assured him calmly. "The guards are down, see? They can't hurt us, France."

Francis's chest heaved and his eyes darted around the hallway, jumping from soldier to soldier. His face crumpled and he released the soldier in his grasp, letting him fall to the ground. He curled up, gripping his hair.

"I couldn't let them take us again." he mumbled. "Not again.  _Not again._ "

"You didn't." Jett croaked, and his strong front wavered, revealing something uneasy lurking underneath. He shook himself and helped Francis stand. "Okay. We need to get to Alfred."

The airship shuddered and a sharp crack tore through the air. It was followed by the screech of splitting metal, and Oscar saw the wall split. Something above him creaked and he looked up, eyes widening as the ceiling gave way. Francis forced him down, shielding him as the metal beams came down. Oscar saw them strike Francis's back… then shoot back upward. Oscar watched in bewilderment as the beams soared away. Some vanished through the ceiling above, tearing through the metal like it was made of paper, and Oscar heard distant clangs as they landed.

"What the  _hell_?" Australia spluttered.

Blue light flared and Francis slumped, falling on top of Oscar. The boy shoved him off, instinctively checking him for a pulse and relaxed upon feeling a thready beat under his fingers.

"What just happened?" he asked faintly.

" _Ah."_  Ozpin said.  _"What an interesting development."_

"What?" Oscar asked.

" _The soldier's injury is from his own weapon."_ Ozpin commented.

Oscar looked from the soldier, to Francis, to the holes in the ceiling. "Whoa."

" _We shall explore this at a later time. You must leave."_  Ozpin urged him.

Oscar hurried to Francis and struggled to lift him. Jett set Charon down and helped with a grimace.

"Charon's heavier." he said briefly. "You can do this, kid."

Oscar bit his lip. "Alfred—"

"We'll come back in for him." Jett said tightly.

His tone of voice said they would  _try_.

Oscar nodded reluctantly and hurried after Jett towards the exit.

XXXXXXX

Another explosion rocked the airship and America had to question Ironwood's plan. Was he trying to eliminate the other soldiers and get America to a different airship to leave with him? He could not let that happen. He was  _not_ going to be a prisoner again.

America thrashed in the soldier's holds, nearly breaking free. Ironwood put him in another chokehold but he continued to struggle, kicking the General and clawing at his arm as much as his cuffs would allow. Ironwood did not release him, only scowling in annoyance, but America refused to give up. Not this time.

"I'll fight you e _very_  step of the way." he swore. "You can't shove me in a cell and expect me to stay there."

"I can't let anyone else take you, Alfred. You're our only—" Ironwood said.

At the possessive term, something snapped.

" _I'm not_   _yours!_ " America snarled.

He jerked his head back, smashing it into Ironwood's nose with a satisfying  _crunch_. He kicked another soldier in the side of the knee, snapping his leg, and threw the third over the railing. She plunged out of sight, hitting something below with a  _thud_.

Ironwood reached for the activator at his hip but America lurched forward, catching the General in the chin with a punch. Ironwood caught hold of his bound wrist and flipped him. He threw America into the ground, and his head glanced off the metal railing. America's vision doubled but he kicked blindly, striking Ironwood in the knee.

Ironwood swore, grabbed America's hair, and smashed his head into the railing again. He tried to pin America down but the nation twisted, throwing him off. A needle pricked his neck and he went limp, but America learned from the last time and burned it away.

Again, the collar injected him and ice and fire fought in his veins. He shuddered, vision blurring, and Ironwood's elbow smashed into his cheek. America crumpled and Ironwood pinned him once more, one hand against his throat while the other held a gun to his head.

"Stop this, Alfred." Ironwood stated.

" _Never_." America spat.

Ironwood smiled.

America faltered, put off guard by his enemy's expression. His hesitation cost him and Ironwood's smile vanished. The needle injected ice into his neck as Ironwood pressed on his throat. America's vision went grey and he reached out blindly, struggling to remember what side was prosthetics.

" _Right!"_  Vale shouted.

America grabbed the one around the gun. It sparked and the limb went limp, but Ironwood did not fall. His flesh arm pressed on America's jugular, keeping air from entering his lungs. America wheezed, letting his bound hands fall to the floor. The General slammed his head into the ground and his vision blackened. Ironwood leaned over, whispering in his ear.

"If you cannot fight me off, how do you expect to resist them—"

America jerked upward, catching Ironwood in the throat. The General's mouth gaped breathlessly and he recoiled. America got a leg free, kicking him in the stomach. Ironwood fell back and America gave him a shove, sending him over the railing. America looked down with blurry vision to see him catch himself on a railing below. The General looked upward and their eyes locked. Without warning, Ironwood let go, falling into the darkness below.

Backing away from the edge, America could do little more than wheeze as he tried to force air into his straining lungs. A large blur appeared in his vision— brown and green, not grey or silver like the soldiers— so Alfred refrained from attacking. A large, tan hand hovered in front of him and he accepted it, letting the person help him up. America shook his aching head and leaned against a thick arm as he tried to get his bearings, pulling uselessly at the cuffs.

"T-Thank you." he gasped.

"Nobody needs to die today, Alfred." a deep voice said.

America froze, slowly looking up at his support, and up some more. He did not recognize the huge, brown-haired man who would dwarf even Russia, but Vale did.

" _Hazel Rainart."_  she whispered, and there was no question who he worked for.

America stared at him blankly, his face drained of color, his hands bound together, and the drug-filled collar still heavy around his neck. Hazel met his gaze steadily. Calmly.  _Levelly_. America immediately preferred Tyrian's mad violence or Atlas's brutal hypocrisy and strong-armed approach to an enemy in control.

"Please don't fight. No one else needs to be involved." Hazel requested in that deep, calm baritone.

America linked it with Hazel's previous statement— his previous threat?— and swallowed. He jerked away from Hazel, settling into a balanced stance. He did not spot any weapons on the large man but knew this fight was going to be difficult, especially since he was handcuffed and still could not use either Semblance. He mentally cursed himself for not asking England for a sleeping spell sooner.

"You've been hurt enough." Hazel said when his target remained silent. "Please, come with me peacefully."

America lifted both hands to rub his aching throat and backed up a step. "'Peace'? Is that your deal?" he rasped. "Do you know who you work for?"

"I do." Hazel said. "Unlike you."

America backed up another step. Hazel followed the movement with his calm hazel eyes but did not attack. Not yet.

_Stall for time._  "If I go with you, your boss will destroy Remnant."

Hazel shook his head. "You're wrong about that."

America made note of his claim but snorted. "For some reason, I have my doubts."

"And I know I cannot convince you otherwise." his enemy said.

With that, Hazel calmly strode forward with slow, deliberate steps. For every one step forward, America took two back, trying to figure out his opponent. He was likely super strong and with America's luck, he would be fast too—

Hazel rushed him and a huge fist to his midsection sent America sprawling. He rolled to his feet with a wince. He had no Semblances, no Cobalt Striker, cuffed hands, strength he could not rely on because of Vale's shaky state, and a collar ready to inject him at any moment. He could only hope Ironwood would not decide to randomly press the button.

_If I have to burn the drug out while fighting this dude I'm screwed._  America dodged a blow and watched the metal floor crack.  _Yup. Definitely screwed._

He caught Hazel's arm and threw him— at least he was still strong enough for that— but the man caught himself on the railing, pulling himself up. America did not stick around to see it. He ran down the hallway and heavy footfalls pounded behind him. He glanced back and smacked into an armored body. He and the soldier stared at each other and the man hastily raised his gun.

"Who are you?"

America raised his bound hands warily. "I'm—"

A fist swung past America, rustling his hair, and the soldier's visor cracked under the impact. The man fell with a scream, a piece of his visor stuck in his eye. America tackled Hazel— or tried to— but the large man grabbed him like an annoying gnat and lifted him by the front of his shirt.

"Your strength has already waned." Hazel noted. "You cannot beat me as you are now. Please, do not bring more unnecessary bloodshed."

"No." America rasped.

He kicked Hazel in the side but the man did not seem to feel it. He grabbed the metal collar and pressed it to America's neck. The needle jabbed the nation's throat and he went limp. A gunshot hit Hazel in the back but he hardly twitched. The man sighed and set America down with surprising gentleness before walking towards the soldier.

The soldier's hands trembled and each of his shots hit Hazel, but the man's Aura took them all. Hazel grabbed the soldier's gun and crushed it in his hand before lifting the soldier up by his throat. America could only watch as Hazel threw the soldier off the bridge. The man vanished from sight, screaming all the way.

Hazel walked back towards America. "This would not be required had you listened to me. Please stop resisting."

America's eyelids fluttered but his mind whirled. He noticed the large gap under the railing. He thought of the ex-soldier that scarred him and began to shake. Hazel reached for him but he flinched. The man's hand receded slightly and he grimaced in distaste. America just needed a  _second_...

"Please…" America croaked, voice slurred by the drug dragging on his tongue. "No drugs." He pictured Mattie's tear-filled eyes and sobbed. "Please, no drugs. Don't t-torture me.  _P-Please_ , I'll be good…"

Hazel hesitated. "If you assist us, you will not be harmed. No one else needs to die for Ozpin and his war."

America made note of that statement. Then— using all his strength— he burst into flames to free his paralyzed limbs and rolled under the railing. He plunged from the bridge, falling helplessly downward, and slammed into the metal deck far below. America moaned in pain but forced himself onto his trembling hands and knees, knowing the enemy would follow. Boots clicked on metal and America shuddered, crawling in between some crates and leaning against one.

" _Ge' b'ck_." he slurred at Ironwood despite not having enough control or energy to fight.

Why did Ironwood and Hazel have to keep taking turns chasing him down? Did they think it was  _fun_? Bastards. America heard a click and drew heat through his weary body, throwing a wave of flame at Ironwood. The heat staved off the drugs pumping through his veins long enough for him to crawl between more crates, praying Ironwood would think he ran off. He noticed red splotches on the floor between his hands and groaned.

_Not now…_

America spotted a sliding door ahead. He huddled between the crates and grabbed his Scroll, using it to open the door. The needle injected him and he went limp, but the door whooshed open. Ironwood's booted feet pounded towards it. America lay on the floor, cold and numb, and watched between the spaces in the crates as the General rushed out.

Ironwood's footsteps receded and America listened to the airship creak ominously. It shuddered violently beneath him, but he did not care. If it collapsed maybe it would take his enemies with it. He struggled to stay awake and heard footfalls approach, different than the precise taps of Ironwood's boots. America pressed his lips together, already recognizing Hazel's thudding steps.

" _Please please please please please."_  Vale begged.

_Thud thud thud thud._

They grew louder, closer to America's location.

_Thud thud thud thud._

Closer still and he could feel the ground vibrate with every footfall.

_Thud thud thud thud._

America knew if he looked out, he would see Hazel approaching.

_Thud thud_ _**thud** _ _—_

The footsteps stopped. A bead of sweat trickled down America's face and he debated how long he would remain comatose if he bit his tongue off. Even with the ominous rumbling of the airship, his breathing sounded too loud. He grabbed the metal collar, wondering if he could control Vale's Semblance long enough to melt it and get it off.

_Thud thud thud…_

Hazel's footsteps receded. America released a shuddering breath, laying his head on the cold metal floor. It was nice and cool against his burning cheek, different than the icy coldness of the drug. His eyes slipped closed, and the rumbling of the airship nearly lulled him into unconsciousness.

_**Thud.** _

America opened his eyes wearily, dully unsurprised to see Hazel there. Again, the large man shoved the collar against his neck, jostling it so it injected a paralytic into his bloodstream. America lost control of his limbs and slumped. Hazel flung America over his shoulder, and the nation stayed there, as limp as a rag doll.

"Emerald, I have him." Hazel said. America guessed he had a communications device of some sort. There was a pause. "I  _told_  you destroying the airship was unnecessary. Cease at once and meet me outside for transport. I'll be out in a moment." After another pause, he shook his head with a sigh. "Nobody needed to die today..."

So Ironwood was not the one trying to kill all these men, then. That knowledge did not make America feel better as Hazel carried him through the belly of the airship. His captor did not speak, not even to gloat, though America sensed he was not the gloating type. He regained the feeling in his fingers but resisted the urge to twitch them, staying limp and lifeless. Before he could try anything, Hazel grabbed the collar and forced it to inject him again. America barely withheld a whimper as the ice tore through his veins.

" _How many more doses does this thing have?"_  Vale asked, frustration clear in her tone.

_Can't be too many. Not that big._  America thought woozily.

He could feel his body reaching the stage where even repeated exposure to the drug could not help him, and his stomach twisted with nausea. If he puked on Hazel would the man release him? He doubted it. He needed to do something drastic. Fast. A finger twitched.

"No drugs." he whispered, and did not need to fake the tremor in his voice.

Hazel injected him. "I'm not falling for that again."

America cursed mentally. He could try to burn it out, but it would just inject him with more until it depleted all its dosages. That could be two more injections, or it could be twenty. Either way he was trapped in a vicious cycle. He needed the collar gone, but did not have the time or control to melt it when he was struggling to control his own body at a bare minimum.

" _Then don't burn it. Vaporize it."_  Vale said suddenly.

America's stomach churned and ice stabbed his insides.  _I don't know if I can._

" _You_ _ **have**_ _to or we're_ _dead. He's taking us to_ _ **Salem.**_ _"_  Vale snapped, voice cracking.

America's fingers twitched. The collar injected him again. Hazel never stopped walking, not even when a few soldiers barged through the door in front of him and spread out, guns drawn.

"Freeze!" one soldier shouted. "That is the prisoner of General Ironwood—"

Hazel's steps quickened and he ignored their shouts. The soldiers fired but their bullets bounced off Hazel's Aura harmlessly. In a second, he was upon them, grabbing one soldier and smashing him through the wall. He picked up another by his neck and America briefly caught sight of a terrified brown eye. Hazel's fingers squeezed and America heard the soldier's neck  _snap_. The soldier went limp and Hazel dropped him with a resigned sigh. The remaining two soldiers backed away, and one gave panicked, wheezing breaths.

America could not feel bad for him. He intended to take America to Ironwood. No matter who got the nation in the end, America would be captured once more. America's throat closed, not with fear, but with red-hot anger and disgust. He fought past the cold freezing his body and forced his voice to work.

" _I won't be a prisoner again."_ he rasped.

America gathered all the energy he could and released it in a single blast. Lightning flared, too quick for the drugs to stop and filled the area with white-hot plasma. Around him, Hazel screamed, the soldiers screamed, maybe America himself screamed as lightning crackled and the air filled with the smell of burnt flesh. America himself felt no pain. Only  _cold_ , so brief and sharp he thought he might have been impaled.

His eyes fluttered open and he saw he was on the ground. He trembled, fingers twitching, and forced himself up onto his hands and knees once more. His stomach twisted and he vomited, emptying his stomach of red-streaked bile. America groaned, vision darkening, but he could not fall unconscious here. The soldiers and Hazel groaned beside him, the remnants of their Auras flickering over their skin.

America staggered to his feet and hobbled away, leaning against the wall for support. The airship shuddered. Apparently Emerald had decided to continue whatever she was doing. All the more reason to leave. He made it into an open area and spotted an emergency exit up ahead. Just a few more feet, and he would be out in the open, where he could hopefully find someone not associated with Ironwood or Salem to help him, or at least scream to that he was being kidnapped.

Movement caught America's eye and he looked up, heart sinking when he spotted Ironwood standing a level above. The General met his gaze, stoic and cold… and nodded once.

America blinked and he was gone. He stared uncertainly at the spot Ironwood had stood in, questioning if he had ever been there. If he had been there, why hadn't he tried to grab America again? What was going on?

_What…?_

" _Get out of here, Alfred."_ Vale urged him.

America fell against the door and shakily opened it with his Semblance, silencing the alarm that would have sounded. He collapsed onto concrete and his vision blackened. He fought to remain conscious and blinked, spotting boots. Heart sinking, he looked up and saw two strangers in white uniforms. One's mouth moved and he reached for him. America flinched, crawling backwards as he raised trembling, cuffed hands.

"S-St'y back!" he managed in a garbled croak

"Sir, its okay." the one on the left said. "We're medics. Please, let us help you."

America squinted at them uncertainly, heart pounding. An explosion sent him flying forward and he fell into the medic as the ground shuddered. Behind them, the airship burst into flames, a series of explosions ripping across the outside as the Dust inside ignited. America wondered if Ironwood and Hazel got out.

He knew better than to hope they hadn't.

America weakly tried to shove the supposed 'medic' away, and to his lack of surprise, the man refused to release him and instead slung him over his shoulders. The other medic followed behind and they hurried him away from the burning airship. America let them carry him without a fight, saving his breath for when he needed to break away. Before he could make his escape attempt, he heard a voice that was music to his ears.

"Alfred!" Australia ran towards him, halting in front of them. "Are you alright? We tried to go back in but the way was blocked."

" _N'y'rf'lllltt_." America slurred.

The medics exchanged glances and quickened their pace. America nearly lost the remainder of his breakfast. The medics halted without warning and gently lowered him to the ground. One of them shouted for a stretcher and another two hurried to oblige.

"Do you know him?" the medic asked Australia as he took something out of his bag. America spotted what appeared to be an IV but was too tired to fight them off.

"Yes. He's my brother." Australia said without missing a beat.

America blinked at him, perplexed. He supposed he and Australia could be considered brothers because of England, but why would Australia use such a relation now? He shut his eyes, and only realized he had fallen unconscious when he woke on a stretcher. The flashing red and blue lights hurt his eyes so he quickly shut them. Listening to the sirens was no better but he could hear Australia nearby.

"—going with him." the Aussie was saying loudly.

"Sir—"

"I  _said_ , I'm going with my brother!" Australia snapped.

Apparently Australia was arguing with the medic. Huh. America felt his stretcher move and gasped, trying to sit up. He distantly noticed his hands were unbound but he failed to rise at all, his muscles feeling worn and numb. Had they strapped him down? Had he been paralyzed again? He had to get out. He could not let them take him anywhere.

America struggled to rise, unable to lift himself even an inch, but then a warm hand wrapped around his own. America forced his eyes open and saw green eyes. Green, like England's but warmer and less burdened.

"It's okay." Australia said softly. "Francis and Oscar got out. The Frontier medics are taking you to the hospital. You got a little beat up."

" _We… escaped?"_  America thought he heard Vale whisper, her shock stabbing America's mind.

America winced and mumbled vaguely, belatedly noticing the oxygen mask over his face.

"Yeah, yeah. You're perfectly fine. I know." Australia chuckled lightly, then winced. "Arthur is going to flip."

America sighed, eyes drifting shut. He forced them open and squinted at the IV in his arm, then at the medic fiddling with it. He was too dizzy to feel anything about it. Australia put a hand to the side of his head, carefully turning it away from the IV.

"It's fine." Australia soothed him. "I have you. You're not alone."

America smiled and passed out.

XXXXXXX

Ironwood watched the medical airship burn, sending thick black smoke into the sky. His instincts urged him to run back into the city and take charge, to ensure that everyone escaped from the burning wreckage, but such a desire was impossible to carry out. He was a fugitive, and the enemy of so many. He was content with that, though he could not say he was completely satisfied with how his plan turned out.

Then again, Salem's forces were unpredictable at best. When he had gotten word that a suspicious figure fitting Emerald Sustrai's description had been spotted aboard the airship, his original plan had been discarded. He had only wished to see America for himself one last time before staging his escape after the nation was gone. Instead plans changed and once again Ironwood embraced the role of the villain. In the end, perhaps that was for the best, for it helped weed out a few of the men he knew fought not for him, but for the cruel shadow of Atlas he represented.

"Sir?" Ironwood looked to the soldier standing beside him. The man saluted briefly, lowering his hand. "Sir, the airship is ready."

Ironwood gazed past him at the smaller vessel parked between the trees. A few men and women bustled around it, proceeding with final preparations before liftoff. When these soldiers first contacted Ironwood, he had considered refusing their claims of loyalty, telling them to move on with their lives. Even when they planned to break him out of his cell, he thought about refusing to activate the signal telling them to move out. He would stay in prison, and pay for his crimes, and maybe he accepted that.

That all changed with nine little words.

" _You can't 'save' anyone else when you're in here."_

Alfred F. Jones did not intend for those words to be taken as they were, but they became the icy water that shocked Ironwood out of his placid acceptance of his fate. And so as he received the news that Salem's forces were on that airship, that even  _then_  they sought to retrieve Vale, he  _acted_ , as he always must.

And America acted as well. Most admirably, in fact. One final test, constructed and given on the fly in a wildcard-type way Ironwood was sure Qrow would applaud him for. That is, if the Huntsman did not punch him in the face.

Because with Salem's forces so near, Ironwood  _had_  to know if America would fight. He remembered Alfred's broken pleas when he was drugged. He remembered his terror and strangled laughter in the face of capture. He remembered thinking that the nation was  _broken_ , and knew he could not let him fall into enemy hands were that the case. Alfred was right about him, more than he knew, because when he was told Salem's forces were lurking nearby, his first thought was to keep Vale at his side.

' _Safe.'_

So Ironwood acted, and became the villain once more. It was disturbing how easily he fell into the role he despised, yet he did not regret it. Despite his fears, Alfred did not give up. He fought back, better than Ironwood could have hoped. He escaped Ironwood  _and_  Hazel, even with a bounds hands and a drug-filled collar around his neck that paralyzed him every other second. When faced with those that sought to break him and bend him to their will, America stood strong and eventually walked free.

Ironwood saw what he needed to. He saw a person who would not crumble when bearing the weight of his Kingdom's arrogant mistakes. And yet…

"Soldier, what was your duty in Atlas?" Ironwood asked.

"I was a technician on an airship, sir." the soldier said promptly.

"And why did you become a technician in the Atlas military?" Ironwood asked softly.

"To protect the world from Grimm." the technician said promptly.

Ironwood's eyes grew shadowed, and his cold heart twinged. "As did I."

The technician hesitated. "If… I may speak freely, sir?"

Ironwood nodded in assent.

"We all saw the footage of the Institute, sir." the technician said boldly. "Ciel Soleil did most of the things you were accused of. That is why we could not leave you there, sir."

"I am not innocent." Ironwood said.

"We know, sir." the technician said. "But you are not the monster they claim you are. That's why we're here, sir. To help you save the world." His fingers twitched, not quite balled into fists. "We have a second chance."

Ironwood contemplated that. He knew Alfred would never forgive him. He knew redemption was out of reach. He knew that because of his actions, he would always be the villain to the public. But that did not mean he had to sit back and stop fighting for the world.

"Sir… permission to ask a question?" the technician asked.

"Permission granted."

The soldier hesitated. "Do you really not regret it?" he asked quietly.

"No. I regret it all." Ironwood said.

The technician frowned, confused. "Then… why do you look so content, sir?"

Ironwood smiled. "Because we didn't break him." His smile vanished, replaced by his usual stern look. "Enough chatting. Come. We have work to do."

"Yes, sir." the technician said.


	9. The Last

Atop a balcony overlooking the city of Frontier, a simple glass table lay in clear view, sparkling in the sunlight. The crystalline interior was patterned in an artistic fashion, reflecting the light in a way that made it appear to be made from diamonds. Although not an expensive table, one would not be mistaken if they said the family that owned the beautifully crafted table was showing it off, leaving it where their neighbors could see it and wish they had something similarly divine.

_**Crash!** _

The glass table shattered, spraying sparkling shards over onto the streets below. Romano tipped over the railing and plunged the rest of the way to the ground with them. He landed hard, nearly dropping Nora. The Italian felt his bones shift and strain but forced himself to move through the pain, stumbling away from the broken shard glittering on the sidewalk. He risked a glance at Nora but the girl was limp on his back, bleeding heavily from her shoulder.

Romano briefly checked the hastily applied coat he had stuffed over her wound and grimaced, continuing his frantic race away from the apartment. He had only been running for a mile but he was already panting. He could not slow down. Not when the man that attacked Nora could appear at any second.

Romano did not know what had happened. One second Nora was smiling and answered the door. The next she was on the ground with a blade sticking out of her. Romano remembered freezing, remembered sadistic laughter, remembered meeting cold yellow eyes as his stomach dropped… and the man with the scorpion tail had collapsed without warning. Romano did not question how or why. He just grabbed Nora and ran.

Romano panted, chest burning as he hurried down the street. The area was mostly empty, with a majority of the locals at work in a different part of town. The few that lingered nearby barely spared him a glance. Perhaps that was for the best. Romano did not want to drag civilians into this. He ran with no destination in mind, his Scroll and weapons on the bedside table in the apartment. He had no idea if Nora had hers. Was there anyone he could reach? Was there even signal in the woods? Nora shifted, moaning lowly and Romano felt something soak his shoulder.

"Don't move. You're injured." Romano said sharply.

Nora mumbled faintly and went limp. Romano cursed and laid her down in the street, glancing around nervously. Not spotting the man who'd attacked them, he ripped his shirt and pressed it to her wound. To his relief, the fabric did not soak through.

"Hey!" he called to the passerby. "Does anyone have a Scroll?"

No one looked at him. No one slowed down. No one helped. They continued on as if they were deaf to his shouts. Romano managed to meet the eyes of one woman but she looked away disinterestedly. What was  _wrong_  with these people? He gritted his teeth and put more pressure on Nora's wound. He needed to get her to a hospital, but he did not know where it was. And these assholes weren't helping any—

" _Please_ , I need help!" he shouted.

Again, he only received a few disinterested stares before they walked away. Did they think someone else would step up to assist him? Did they not want to get involved? Was there some shitty rule where people could be arrested for saving someone's  _goddamn life_?

And then someone  _was_  there, hurrying out of the crowd of apathetic townsfolk towards Romano and Nora. He looked like the kind of guy who cared a lot about his appearance and would freak at a speck of dust on his clothes, yet he knelt next to them, dirtying his white coat with grime and blood. Romano took in the black hat, orange hair, and the nasty scar across his face, but in that moment no one ever looked more like an angel.

"What happened?" the man asked rapidly.

"Some psycho attacked her. Stabbed her in the shoulder." Romano said briefly. He caught sight of the cane at the man's side. "Are you a Huntsman or something?"

"Or something." the man said calmly. "My name's Roman. Oh, I  _wish_  you were Alfred."

Romano comprehended his words too late. The cane clipped his jaw with a crack and he crumpled in the street, vision swimming. Roman calmly rolled Nora's limp over and plucked the Relic of Creation from its holster.

"I'm glad you were somehow able to knock out Tyrian, my dear friend. It's nice when the boss isn't upset with  _me_."

Finally, Romano remembered who this man was. Roman Torchwick, the criminal that shot America and left him for dead. Seeing the scar across his face, Romano guessed that America at least managed to leave his mark on the guy.

Roman grinned and twirled the Relic, setting it over his shoulder in a blasphemously casual way. "Well? Aren't you going to fight me for this?" He waved the Relic mockingly.

Romano stared at him in silence, heart pounding.

Roman pointed his cane at Nora. "How about now—?"

Romano tackled him. He immediately regretted his decision when Roman grinned, punching him in the jaw and sending him sprawling. Romano's vision swam but he pushed himself up onto his knees, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Roman walked up to him with a smug swagger, the Relic still slung over his shoulder.

"I  _really_  wish you were Alfred." he said with a sigh. "It would be fun to pay him back. Though maybe you're a good  _warm-up_."

The cane struck the back of Romano's head with a  _crack_  and his vision doubled. It struck him again, forcing him down to the pavement once more. Roman's grin widened and he aimed his cane at Romano's back.

"You're really no fun." he said despite his smile.

His cane emitted a sharp whistle as it fired and Romano gasped, feeling the heat through his Aura. A few passerby looked at them but turned away, continuing on.

"Don't look to them for help." Roman said. "They're a bit apathetic at the moment." His smile vanished. "After all, the world is cruel and selfish at its core, and so is humanity." He lowered his cane but raised it again, striking Romano across the face. "So how about you save yourself instead of waiting for a so-called hero? How about you  _FIGHT BACK?!_ "

The cane hit Romano in the head, the chest, the throat, and he curled up, choking as he tried to cover himself. Blows rained down on his back but he remained silent, too stunned and terrified to cry out. Not a single person stopped to help.

" _He_  fought back." Roman snarled. " _He_  fought back, and did  _this_  to me. He let Salem  _find me_." Roman laughed as if he choked on it, strained and unhinged. "But he always was a stupid little hero, wasn't he? That's why the only good heroes are  _dead_  ones."

The cane impacted Romano's cheek and he felt the skin split. He crumpled in a heap, gasping lowly, and saw orange flicker over his skin. Roman raised the cane but turned not to him, but to Nora. Romano moved before his brain could catch up to his body, throwing himself on top of the girl. Something pierced his lower back and blood blossomed from the wound, staining it red. Romano slumped with a scream, but refused to expose Nora.

Roman sneered down at him. "I'd  _love_  to see Alfred but duty calls." He grinned ominously, showing his canines as his eyes grew shadowed. "Tell him I said "Hello", would you? Maybe we'll meet up later."

With that, he left.

Romano watched him go, vision hazing, and abruptly startled gasps and screams sounded around him. His eyelids fluttered and he saw the once-apathetic citizens finally rushing over to him. A couple moved him off Nora and one started performing basic first aid on them both, barking orders to the others to call the hospital. Their complete one-eighty was not as surprising as it should be since the source of their lack of empathy had departed.

Romano winced as someone put pressure to his gunshot wound, his eyes resting on Nora. The girl was pale, but she stirred briefly, mumbling as she reached towards her back. A woman grasped her hand, stopping her from agitating her wounds.

"Your shoulder is a little hurt but its going to be okay, sweetie. You're going to be fine." she crooned.

"It's gone." Nora slurred.

Romano shut his eyes, struggling not to cry. He did not speak a word, not even when the medics arrived and carried his battered body into the ambulance.

XXXXXXX

Ruby dodged a Deathstalker's stinger with a yelp, bidding a hasty retreat as it snapped its claws at her. She used Crescent Rose to propel herself into the air and sped down, impaling the Grimm through its shell. It shrieked and collapsed, dispelling into black smoke. Granted a moment of peace, Ruby planted Crescent Rose in the ground and wiped at her forehead.

"We've been at this all day." she panted. "Nora is going to be so mad when she hears about this."

"Probably." Weiss said testily. "There are certainly more this time." Her blue eyes sharpened. "Incoming."

Ruby stabbed Crescent Rose's scythe into the dirt, shooting the Beowolves as they rushed the Huntresses. Weiss's glyphs appeared below them and flung them into the air. Ruby stopped shooting and raced forward alongside her partner, propelling herself with a gunshot. They sliced through the pack leaving carnage and disintegrating limbs in their wake. Ruby landed, skidding slightly, but kept her balance.

More dark figures prowled beneath the trees and Ruby grimaced. Weiss was right. There were  _definitely_  far more Grimm than they had been told. So many that it was taking them all day to try to get rid of them than the couple hours they thought. Ruby knew that Frontier's intel was sketchy at best but 'a small Beowolf pack' had turned into a ' _very_  large pack with Ursas, Deathstalkers, and a Beringel or twenty'. And that was just what Ruby and Weiss had to deal with. The others had split into different groups when the Grimm had, each pursuing a part of the pack, and Ruby was beginning to regret that decision.

Ruby fired, taking out three more Beowolves with one shot. She launched herself upward, shooting down war-scythe first, and impaled a Beringel through its head. It howled and grabbed her, throwing her into a tree. Ruby burst into petals and dodged its swipe, landing hard before propelling herself at its back. She impaled it through the chest and pushed herself upward, bisecting it lengthwise. The Grimm fell into dust and Ruby slumped.

"How many  _more_?"

Weiss impaled a group of Beowolves with ice. "I do not know. It's almost as if they're—"

She paused, deftly dodging an Ursa. Weiss leaped off one of her glyphs, deflecting its strike in midair, and sliced its head off. The earth shook when the large Grimm fell.

"It's what?" Ruby asked.

Weiss shook her head. "...It's nothing. I'm being paranoid."

Ruby spotted movement in the shadows under the trees. With a resigned sigh, she raised her scythe, aiming it.

Red eyes appeared from the darkness and stared directly at Ruby. She went still, stomach twisting unsteadily as her own eye prickled. The Beowolf stayed in place in the shadows of the forest, watching her without a single growl. It was just a Beowolf, yet the curious way it studied her reminded her of much more ancient Grimm. The unsettling feeling became something stronger and Ruby inhaled sharply, pressure building behind her eye. The Beowolf abruptly turned around and walked away, vanishing into the foliage.

"—Ruby?  _Ruby?_ "

Ruby jumped at the sound of her partner's voice and shook herself. "Uh, I lost one. A Beowolf went into the woods."

"That's unlike you." Weiss commented neutrally.

"Yeah..."

Ruby sped ahead and stopped behind the Beowolf. It turned on her and snarled, all former signs of intelligence gone. Ruby shot it with no difficulty.

She could not shake the feeling something was wrong.

XXXXXXX

America bounced his leg, glaring at his hospital gown before glancing out the window of the hospital room impatiently. It was almost sunset but the doctors and nurses he  _loved oh so much_  would not release him. He was honestly beginning to consider making a prison break at this point. He had recovered from his smoke inhalation and the negative effects of getting shot up with enough drugs to kill a dragon, but the hospital staff was being their stubborn selves. It was so irritating that America was beginning to miss Doctor Charon at this point, but he had not seen the man since the airship. He hoped he was alright.

He also hoped to get back home before England did. America  _really_  wanted his latest hospital visit to fly under England and Canada's radar. There was no lasting harm done and the damage had already been healed so his brothers did not need to know about his injuries and freak out. Maybe he could convince France, Australia, and Oscar to keep it a secret?

" _You have to tell your brothers."_ Vale said sternly.  _"You can't keep what happened from them. They'll probably find out through the news."_

America thought about everyone that watched the news and winced, rubbing his neck.  _Just what I need. More attention._

" _I'm sure the news will keep your name out of the story."_  Vale said.

_Think about what you just said. Think about how my dearest overprotective brothers are going to react._

" _...There aren't televisions in the woods. Your brothers might miss it."_

America's lips twitched.  _I thought you just said they would find out through the news?_

" _I changed my mind."_  Vale said defensively.

_Right._

"What's a five letter word to do with 'pineapple'?" Australia asked randomly.

"Fruit." America said instantly.

Australia hummed and wrote it in the crossword he was completing. "I'm bored." he said plainly.

"Want to make our escape?" America asked hopefully.

"You are not leaving until you are cleared." France said sternly. Why did he have to be responsible now? Was he trying to impress England?

"But I'm fine." America claimed. "No side-effects or anything." He rubbed his neck.

" _None except more trauma."_  Vale muttered.

America winced, taking a shuddering breath.

France frowned at him. "You are holding in your emotions in again."

"Am not." America denied. He leaned over to peek at the crossword. "You spelled 'migration' wrong."

Australia muttered a curse, glaring at his pen like it was the bane of his existence.

France raised an eyebrow. " _And_  you are changing the subject again."

"Says the guy whose Semblance lets him deflect things." America deflect—  _retorted_. "What does that say about you?"

"That I am so beautiful I repel things that wish to tarnish that beauty." France flipped his hair but sobered. "Alfred—"

"I'm not going to have a breakdown here, thank you. I'd like to leave soon." America said levelly.  _Even though I was_ _ **almost captured again—**_ _Don't think about it._

" _We escaped."_  Vale reminded him, and his breathing eased.

America leaned back on his pillows, letting his head loll so he could look at France. "So. Semblance, huh?"

France sighed in exasperation but nodded. "Oui. It is… not what I expected."

"What, did you expect something that would allow you to enthrall your enemies with your beauty?" Australia asked, straight-faced.

France scoffed but America sensed Australia hit the nail on the head. He thought of the possibilities for France's Semblance and grinned.

"Dude, you should play dodgeball with that." America said eagerly. "If someone tries to hit you,  _wham!_ " He punched the air. "—the ball goes right back at them!"

France gave him an exasperated look worthy of England and kneaded his forehead. "I see some things do not change."

"Rude." America sniffed. "If you're mean to me I'll tell Arthur to use you as a shield."

France gasped, putting a hand to his heart. "How could you say such a thing?"

"It's a good idea." Oscar froze under France's affronted stare, cheeks coloring. "I mean… Attacks bounce off you so..."

"Wait… Theoretically, Francis can walk through gunfire and have it not affect him. He can shrug off heavy blows like nothing. He can absorb— well, deflect— a ton of damage. That means..." Australia gaped, eyes going round. " _Francis_  is a  _tank_?  _Francis_?"

America realized what he was getting at and burst out laughing. "Gilbert is going to laugh his ass off when he finds out." he cackled.

France crossed his arms and sniffed. "I see why this power seems like a strange fit for one as beautiful, strong, charming, and intelligent as I—"

"Oh, I see how he can be a tank." America interrupted sagely. "I think his inflated ego is the reason. Its so big that his Semblance confused it for physical might."

"That may be the case." Australia said with equal solemness.

Oscar snorted. His cheeks reddened and he covered his mouth. "Sorry."

"At least one of you has not been corrupted by Arthur's rudeness." France huffed loftily.

"I'll stop teasing you if you help me escape this place." America cajoled.

France thought about it. "Hmm… Alright."

Australia blinked. "That didn't take much."

"Do you want to be the responsible one and remain here until the doctors clear Alfred?" France offered.

Australia wrinkled his nose. "Hell no."

America chuckled as he turned off the machine tracking his heartbeat— mentally sighing in relief when using his Semblance did not cause his limbs to go numb. He absently rubbed his neck, relieved when his fingers only touched skin and not metal. France handed his clothes to him and he made a shooing motion at them until they turned around. Once he was certain they were looking away, he quickly changed back into his clothes, carefully adjusting his t-shirt and coat to hopefully cover up his scars.

During his checkup, one of the nurses had stared at them and… well, apparently she did not have a good poker face. The pity was there, but the disgust that came with it was arguably worse. America was a  _little_  sick of it. Not to mention he heard two of the nurses whispering about the "Poor dear. Don't tell him what happened. He was in the Institute, didn't you know—?" It did not take a genius to guess what they were talking about: Ironwood had escaped. Their attempts to hide it from America were laughable at best. It would probably be on the news later anyway.

"I'm decent." he said with more cheer than he felt.

"Then we shall depart." France said with a flourish. He checked his saber for ammo and rose.

Australia happily discarded the boring crossword and followed them out, while Oscar came with them more hesitantly. He cast a worried glance back into the boring hospital room.

"Shouldn't you wait?" he asked nervously.

"Nah. I heal fast." America reassured him. The smell of alcohol tickled his nose and he grimaced. "I don't want to stay here longer than I have to."

They walked down the stairs, past the front desk, and towards door with no issue. It seemed that the staff was busy with a critical case, and although he hated the thought of such a tragedy, America breathed a sigh of relief. He  _hated_ hospitals. Hated them with a passion. They were awful places that smelled awful in ways that reminded him of too many memories of pain and death, and the sooner he could leave, the bet—

Nurses and doctors shoved past him, shouting as they pushed a stretcher. Orange hair and blood-splattered clothes caught America's eye and he caught a glimpse of the pale-faced form laid out on the stretcher. He froze in place.

"Nora?" he asked, voice small.

Oscar gasped. America ignored him, chasing after the stretcher as it was pushed down the hall into critical. A mass of people converged behind the stretcher but he shoved his way through, refusing to lose sight of it. A nurse stepped into his path, stopping him from entering, and he pushed against her weakly, staring through the window as Nora was whisked around a corner.

"Sir, you can't go in." the nurse said, her voice muffled in his roaring ears.

"I have to go in. She's my friend." he told the nurse. He vaguely noted how young he sounded. How  _confused_ , like a child who didn't understand. He  _didn't_  understand. What  _happened?_

The nurse's eyes clouded with pity. "She's going to be alright." she said gently.

"What happened?" he asked, forcing the question out.

"I don't know, sir." The nurse shrugged helplessly.

America stared at the door, the image of Nora's blood-covered body burned into his mind. He fumbled with his pocket, and his hand shook so much that he missed it twice before managing to grab his Scroll. He raised a hand and had to pause, struggling to stop the trembling enough to press the right contact. He carefully pressed the number and raised the Scroll to his ear. It rang.

"Sir—" the nurse began, but paused upon seeing his face

America ignored her, standing in silence in the center of the hallway in front of the critical ward as the Scroll rang and rang and rang. Finally, someone picked up.

" _Alfred?"_  Jaune's confused voice came through the speaker.  _"How are you calling? No one has signal out here—"_

"Nora's hurt." America said tonelessly.

For a moment there was nothing but stunned silence, broken only by Jaune's harsh gasp.

"She might need you." America mumbled.

His words snapped Jaune out of whatever stupor he had landed in.  _"We're on our way. Where are you?"_

"The hospital." America answered robotically. "I don't know what happened…" He blinked, eyes burning. "We weren't there."

" _What?"_  Jaune grunted and shouted something away from the speaker before continuing.  _"Listen, we'll talk when we get there."_

"Okay." America said faintly, pretending not to hear the tremor in Jaune's voice.

He hung up, still staring at the closed door. A hand grasped his arm and he flinched, yanking it free. An annoyed older nurse glared at him, lips thinned with anger. He distantly recognized her as the one in charge of him.

"There's  _always_  one troublemaker." she muttered under her breath. She scowled at America. "I've been searching for you  _everywhere!_ Why did you leave your room? You're coming back with me, young man."

She grabbed him again and yanked on his arm. America stumbled, too stunned to resist. The other nurse took hold of the older nurse's hand and peeled it away from America's arm, whispering urgently in her ear.

"Jade, his friend was just taken into critical."

Shock flashed across Jade's face but her ire soon returned. "He isn't cleared yet. He needs to return to his room."

The younger nurse frowned at her before smiling at America. "How about we get you cleared, okay?"

America tore his gaze away from the door to critical and let her lead him away. He spotted France and Australia standing outside of a room and stopped, peering inside. His heart sank. South Italy lay on another stretcher, teeth clenched in pain. Bruises littered his exposed skin and a bloody bullet hole in his back. Another nurse was blocking the door, arms stretched out.

"Sirs, your friend is going to be fine. The injury is not as bad as it appears." he said calmly.

"What the hell happened?" Australia demanded.

"We don't know, sir." the nurse said patiently. "Please, let us do our jobs, alright?"

Romano looked towards the door, his attention drawn by the noise and face taut with pain. He met America's eyes and his expression crumpled.

"They took it." he said and turned his head away, hiding his face. His shoulders shook.

The nurse accompanying America said something but her words were lost in the roaring in America's ears. Instead Romano's repeated over and over, their meaning failing to unfold. A low whine pierced his ears and it took him a moment to realize it was inside his head. Vale moaned as if in physical pain, her terror jabbing America's mind like swords of ice.

" _They have the Relic of Creation. Oh Gods. We're the_ _ **last one**_ _."_

America's vision went grey. He fell to his knees, barely noticing when his kneecaps struck the tile, and hunched over as pain lanced through his chest. He sucked in a breath but it failed to enter his throat, the air trapped outside his body as his lungs constricted. Tension grew in his every cell, his face, his limbs, his throat and heart, leaving him fragile and pained as every piece of him threatened to shatter with a single touch.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't  _breathe_.

America distantly heard shouting before his senses hazed, leaving him to flounder in grey fog. The grey slowly darkened and blackness crept inward, until nothing was left.


	10. Fairy Godbrother

Visiting hours were over long ago, but many of the hospital rooms held more than just their patients. Pyrrha could hear them through the walls, their muffled whispers like thunder even with a layer of plaster between them. She tried not to listen to the muffled conversation, and in turn hoped their neighbors would extend the same courtesy. The three members of Team JNPR were not talking at the moment but the sentiment was still there.

Ren sat closest to Nora, grasping her hand in his as he laid his head on the bed beside her. Pyrrha doubted he was asleep nut for all he moved, he may be carved from stone. Jaune was similarly still, staring at the heart monitor as his fists clenched and released.

Nora had been stable by the time they arrived and the hospital staff urged them to let her wake up naturally before using Jaune's Semblance to boost her Aura's healing capabilities. They reluctantly had done exactly that and so Nora slept with bandages around her shoulder. Her cheeks still glistened with the tears she'd shed when she told them she lost the Relic. Pyrrha did not want to think about that now. Not when her teammate was laying in a hospital bed after she was stabbed.

Jaune leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Pyrrha silently placed a hand on his shoulder and he clasped it in return, squeezing her fingers too tightly. The champion did not mind.

"She's going to be okay." Pyrrha said quietly.

Jaune shook his head. "I know but… This shouldn't have happened."

" _We should have been there_ ," he did not say.

Pyrrha had no response to that.

XXXXXXX

Romano's scowl was permanently etched onto his face. He watched irritably as Italy flitted around his hospital room, offering to get him things between bouts of apologies and blubbering. It had gone on long enough that Romano prodded the thin hospital sheet laid over him, seriously considering whether to stuff it in his brother's mouth to shut him up.

By the time Italy and Penny had clambered out of the locked storage basement under the apartment building they'd ended up in, Romano, Nora, and her attacker— Tyrian— were gone. The next time Romano saw his brother was after getting the bullet removed from his back. Ever since then, Italy would not stop crying.

Upon receiving about thirty too many apologies, Romano finally snapped. " _Stop crying!_  I'm fine."

Italy froze, eyes round in a hurt way that made Romano's stomach churn guiltily.

He ignored it and scowled. "I didn't fall into a coma so stop acting like I was on death's door."

Italy sniffled and clung to him. "They could have taken you." he hiccupped.

Romano's ire drained away. "Well, they didn't." he growled, denying the slither of fear curling in his gut at the thought. "So quit it."

Italy nodded and finally sat down. He abruptly stood up and laid next to his brother on the bed, curling up against his side. Romano rolled his eyes but did not protest. He could almost pretend he did not need the reassurance as much as Italy did. He looked at his brother, noting the chain he could see around his neck.

"Do you want to go home?" he blurted.

Italy's shoulders stiffened. His silence said it all.

Romano sighed, shaking his head. "We don't have to be here, Feli."

"I know." Italy whispered. "But… I don't want to leave."

Romano bit back the snappish retort that Italy had already proven himself and laid in silence, pretending that he was not secretly relieved.

XXXXXXX

When the nurse poked her head through the door, shining a thin line of light over the dark room, Qrow glared at her until she left. Ruby might have giggled or chided him for his irritation any other day. But not today. Not after what they had returned to.

By the time the Grimm-hunting group had made it back to Frontier, it was over. Nora and Lovino had been attacked by Tyrian and Roman Torchwick, leaving both injured. Alfred had been attacked by Ironwood and Hazel but escaped. The Relic of Creation was gone, taken by Roman. Ironwood had made his getaway in an airship with a group of the men that were still loyal to him.

It did not change the fact that Ruby and her friends had arrived too late to do  _anything_. It felt like every Grimm in Remnant had appeared to delay them, attacking them and slowing their progress so they did not make it back until after the sun set. They were useless.  _She_  was useless. She could not even comfort Jaune, Ren, Pyrrha, Feliciano, Matthew, or Arthur. Trying to felt…  _wrong_. Unwanted. Unneeded.

_Useless_.

So she went with Yang to visit Uncle Qrow while Blake and Weiss went to see Sun. If Ruby's uncle were not here, she would leave. She hated hospitals. They were awful and cold and bad things happened in them and she never wanted to be in one again. She knew that desire was childish and naive. Yet she could not stop thinking it.

Uncle Qrow patted her head, careful not to shift too much and wake Yang. Her sister leaned against their uncle's side, snoring lightly. Ruby envied her for her ability to sleep. She could not close her eyes without picturing the look on Ren's face when he was told what happened.

No one had gone back to the apartment. Klein and Whitley were at the Katts while almost everyone else remained at the hospital. The police had interviewed Romano in his hospital room but Ruby knew it did not matter. Law enforcement would not catch Roman or Tyrian. The allies of Salem could not be imprisoned and brought to justice. Ruby realized what the alternative solution would be and flinched.

"You okay, kiddo?" Qrow asked.

"Yeah." Ruby claimed. She snuggled closer to him, listening to his steady heartbeat. "Do you have any more stories about your missions to tell me?"

Sensing she was avoiding the subject, Qrow sighed but obliged. "Well, this one time I was in Mistral…"

XXXXXXX

America was not asleep. As Canada watched his chest rise and fall, he wished his brother was. He wished that America was in the land of dreams, resting peacefully in a fantasy world only he could reach. But he wasn't.

America was not asleep.

He was sedated after emerging from his panic attack as a screaming wreck.

Canada knew he would never forget the terror in his brother's eyes as he snapped awake, his brief, breathless silence soon replaced by wordless moans and sobs. The doctors had been forced to sedate America so now Canada's twin lay in a drug-addled slumber. Penny stood guard outside, refusing to remain in the room when 'enemies may be lurking just outside the door.' Canada could not begin to guess what was going through the robot's mind, but had a feeling she was beating herself up for not accompanying Alfred to the Atlas airship.

He wanted to be angry at America too for going in the first place but when he heard  _why_  he went from France, Canada could not maintain his anger, leaving only sorrow and guilt behind. He was beginning to loathe this— No, he had  _always_  loathed sitting in a hospital room, waiting for his loved ones to wake up, fearing that maybe, this time they  _wouldn't_.

Vale was unstable and America was suffering because of it. How long would it be until some tragedy dragged him down like Mantle did to Canada? There was no spell to sever the connection this time, no chance to fix this unless they  _maybe_  retrieved the right Relics. But now all the Relics were in Salem's hands except the Relic of Choice.

Vale's Relic.

Alfred's Relic.

The one that would ultimately decide Remnant and Earth's fate.

No wonder America freaked out when he realized Salem only needed to capture him to finish her plan to  _destroy the worlds—_

A hand touched Canada's arm and he jumped, reaching for Maple Frost. England raised a sardonic eyebrow at him and he reddened, letting his hand fall.

"Sorry."

"It's alright." England said briskly, but Canada could see the tension in his shoulders. "We're all a bit jumpy."

He glanced at the window as if he expected Salem's forces to smash through it. At this point, Canada would not be surprised if they did. They should have seen the attack coming. He could not say whether it was unlucky or lucky that they decided to strike when Ironwood did. Yes, it forced America to fight  _two_  powerful enemies on his own— and God did Canada's stomach drop at the thought of his twin's drug-addled struggle to escape— but America had gotten away in the end. Canada should be glad. Instead he was terrified of what the future might bring.

_America's the last. Time is running out._

America groaned. Canada's gaze snapped to his twin as he stirred, face twisting with confusion as he struggled out of the drugged fog. His breathing quickened and for a moment Canada feared he may have to be sedated again, but when hazy mismatched eyes opened and saw him, America relaxed. He blinked, mouth forming Mattie's name soundlessly before his eyes widened. Canada saw him struggle and guessed what he was trying to say.

"Nora is okay. Last I heard, she's sleeping."

America relaxed, eyes slipping closed. They opened reluctantly, and this time his gaze was more focused as his mind cleared. His eyes flicked from England to Canada and he smiled weakly.

"Can I convince you I'm on a super-secret undercover mission where I need to pretend to be a patient at the hospital?" he rasped.

"No." England spat.

"Oh. Darn." America turned his head, avoiding their eyes. "What do you know about?"

"That Ironwood nearly took you again, one of Salem's minions almost did the same, you were shot up with enough drugs to fell a kraken, and you collapsed." Canada said quietly.

America winced, scratching the side of his neck. "Well aren't you two informed."

"Don't joke." England snapped. "You were almost captured again."

America deflated, shoulders slumping as he pressed a hand to his throat. His eyes glazed, and for a moment, Canada thought he was going to freak out again. Instead he swallowed and smiled tremulously. "Yeah. I almost was. I got away. Barely."

The last word was hardly a whisper. Canada eyed his twin worriedly while England failed to notice something was amiss.

"I cannot believe they took you to Ironwood. I can't believe you  _went_. I'll be having words with Charon later." England growled.

"Don't blame him." America said quietly. "Ironwood promised to give them information on the Institute if I…" He cringed. "...visited."

"And how did  _that_  go?" England growled sarcastically.

"I was beat up, dragged around, drugged, and almost captured for the millionth time." America said tonelessly.

That pierced through England's anger and it melted away. He cupped America's cheek, forcing him to look at him. "But you weren't." he said firmly. "You fought and got away."

America smiled thinly. "This time." His smile faltered and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "That's why I need your help, Arthur.  _Magic_  help."

"I can't stop Salem from finding you." England said heavily. "I tried looking for a spell to make you invisible to her, her followers, and her Grimm but I do not have the power."

"That's okay." America said calmly—  _too_  calmly— and a pit opened in Canada's stomach. "I just need a couple smaller spells. I know you can do them."

England nodded sharply. "I have my spellbook and have been doing research for Ruby. I should be able to help."

"First I need a spell that can keep my Aura from being taken. It's practically my soul so I thought you'd have something." America spoke too casually for someone asking for a magical solution to keep pieces of his soul from being stolen from his body.

The uneasy feeling grew stronger.

"I do." England said instantly. He pulled the book out of his bag. "Do you want me to do it now?"

"Yes." America said. He smiled at Canada but his eyes were distant. "Do you want to tell Penny what is going on?"

Canada silently rose and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Penny stared at him unblinkingly like she was trying to drill through his skull with her gaze alone.

"What is Alfred F. Jones's status?" she demanded.

"He's awake and okay." Canada said. He lowered his voice. "Arthur is doing a spell on him that will prevent his Aura from being taken in the future."

Penny did not move an inch except for her fingers, which quivered as they clenched into fists. "I compute why such measures may be necessary based on the data provided on previous encounters with the  _meatbags_  that follow Salem."

Canada shot her a sidelong glance, noting the word used to describe the likes of Tyrian and Hazel. It was a good thing Penny's mission was to protect Alfred instead of eliminate those she saw as an enemy. Canada briefly imagined a world where Penny's mission was to "Obey Ciel Soleil" and shuddered. He saw light glow through the crack under the door and waited it for to fade before grasping the handle. He paused, looking to Penny.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I am standing guard." Penny said.

"That's not the question I asked." Canada said gently.

Penny looked past him, then abruptly turned away. "I shall continue to stand guard."

Canada relented and made a note to have Alfred talk to her. He entered the room to see America on the bed, pale-faced, while England sat in a chair, equally ashen.

America waved tiredly. "It worked. I glowed and everything. My fairy godbrother didn't give me a pretty dress though so that sucks."

"Oh, you want a  _dress_?" England growled snidely.

"Hell yeah. And glass slippers." America said cheerfully. He paused, frowning. "They'd probably be hard to fight in though. Never mind, fairy godbrother. I call rain check."

England rolled his eyes, muttering about America's idiocy.

America's smile faded. "Actually, I have another wish." His voice remained light, but Canada heard the tremor in his tone.

"What. Do you want a crown?" England asked, but his pinched eyebrows showed he heard the shakiness too.

"No." America said quietly. "I need you to put a spell on me to keep me asleep. One that can be activated if I'm captured again."

One could hear a pin drop. Canada felt like he had been slapped. England had the expression of someone who just had something explode in their face. His jaw worked wordlessly, and Canada was similarly mute, unable to comprehend what his twin was saying. Ironically, America's thoughts were clear and his expression was unnervingly serene.

"I was almost taken. Again." he said, still too calm. "I barely escaped. The next time, I might not be so lucky. Which is why I need an out."

"So you want a  _sleeping curse?_ " England exploded.

America met his anger with a level stare. "A sleeping spell with no nastiness would be preferred. I know you have one in that book of yours. I just need to be able to activate it if I'm paralyzed and mute unless you want to cast it on me when I'm about to be—"

"Like  _bloody hell I would agree to that!_ " England thundered.

Canada flinched.

America did not. "When they figure out they can't steal my Aura to use it themselves, they will torture me." England recoiled. "They'll starve me, and kill me, and tear me apart over and over until I do what they want."

"You're— That's— How can you  _ask_  this of me?" England demanded. "Do you realize what you want me to do? You want me to put you in an  _indefinite coma_."

His wording made something click in Canada's head and his gorge rose to choke him. Their kind fell into a coma when they were 'killed', only waking when they healed. Yet America was asking England to put him into that state and  _keep_  him there. America was essentially asking for a mercy kill in the face of capture. Canada risked a glance at his twin and the teary look in his eyes showed America knew exactly what he was asking of his brother.

"Only if it becomes necessary." America said. He smiled and it was more fragile than paper-thin glass. "Arthur, I  _can't_  let them break me. I know it's selfish and stupid but I  _care_. I care about Team RWBY, JNPR, CFVY, Penny, Port, Oobleck, Neon, Blaze, Flynt… so many other people. I want to save them. To do that I have to save Remnant by keeping the Relic of Choice out of Salem's hands. Poison won't last, and she might be able to undo Romano's Semblance— if he's even capable of keeping me down. This is the only way I can think of.  _Please_ , I need you to help me."

England said nothing. He stared at America as if he were looking through him, face holding such misery Canada could almost feel it. A brief flicker of violet flared over his skin and England turned towards the door, yanking it open.

"I'm going out." he said stiffly.

He fled from the room.

America watched him go and laid his head back on his pillow. "I should have expected that. I  _did_ , actually. That's why I had him do the Aura-protecting one first."

"Alfred..." Canada said, unsure of what else he wanted to say.

America looked at him, and the calm shattered, revealing a dull pain that took Canada's breath away. "I  _can't_  go through that again, Mattie. I… I know its cowardly and selfish but I can't face torture again. They'd make sure I didn't die, even with Vale like it is, and with three of the Relics they could probably bring me back anyways." His hand dropped to his stomach and he shut his eyes, trembling visibly. "I'm such a coward."

"You're not cowardly or selfish, Alfred." Canada said, and his brother looked away from him. "If you weren't affected by everything that happened I'd honestly be worried for you."

"You  _are_  worried for me." America mentioned softly.

"Yes. But in that case it would be worried in a bad way." Canada said. "You don't have to defend yourself for not wanting to face  _torture_ , Alfred. Anyone would want to avoid it." He gritted his teeth. "Especially since we can't die from it."

Silence stretched between them. The clock on the wall ticked morosely.

"You know, when I first woke up in the Vault with Ozpin's group, I thought up ways to injure myself enough to go comatose so they would have two comatose nations to deal with." America admitted softly. "Now I'm asking my big brother to snipe me with a coma spell. At least some things don't change."

Canada ignored his queasiness at his brother's words. "Things  _have_  changed. I'm here. And I'm going to do my best to keep you safe. But..." He pressed his trembling hands against his legs, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "It would be naive to call that a guarantee. I… I'm certain England has a counterspell we'd use once you're safe. I'll try to convince him."

America gave him a stunned look that transformed into a beaming grin. He should  _not_  be smiling about  _this_ , yet there he was, grinning like he had been told Christmas was coming early.

Canada nibbled on his lip. "Just promise me you will only use it if you have no other choice."

"Hey, I'm not as cynical as Vale. I still fight tooth and nail to escape." America said glibly.

He was still smiling, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Canada wanted to cry. Abruptly America yawned, mouth stretching wide as his features scrunched.

"You should sleep." Canada encouraged.

"I've slept enough." America denied even as he yawned again.

"You can sleep more." Canada prodded his brother until he laid down with a grumble. He pulled the blanket up to America's chin. "Do you want a bedtime story?" he asked dryly.

America snorted. "Nah." His smile faltered. "You're staying up?"

"Only for a little longer." Canada lied.

America shifted under the blanket, avoiding his gaze once more. "I have nightmares."

Canada's heart became a heavy weight in his chest. "I'll wake you."

America hummed vaguely, eyelids drooping. "Don't leave." he whispered.

"I won't." Canada vowed. He hesitated. "You're not alone."

America was already asleep.

XXXXXXX

England stormed out of the hospital, coat flapping with every stride and a violet glow shimmering over his skin. He reigned it in, gritting his teeth as his emotions fought to explode. The logical part of him whispered that he was overreacting but he firmly told that part to shut up. He passed by Russia and Japan as they patrolled the halls and the two wisely gave him a wide berth.

None of the staff objected to their presence, though England had to wonder whether it was because they were used to "Huntsmen" protecting some of their patients or they simply did not care. How long would it be before their patience died and they kicked the target of the General of Atlas out? The people of Frontier were not the most welcoming sort. England would like to believe the state of the world had changed them but could not be certain.

He walked fearlessly down the empty street, and silently challenged anyone to attack him. Mugger, Salem fanatic, or Grimm, he'd blast them to ashes. Let them come. Let them try to harm him. They would not live long enough to regret it. Particularly if any of Salem's lackeys still lurked about and thought he was a target they could use against America—

England's breath hitched and violet light flickered over his skin. He glared at his hand until the purple hue vanished. He shook his head and strode to the steps outside of a random building— a closed insurance office if he was not mistaken— and sat heavily on the stone stairs. He rubbed his temple and put a hand over his eyes, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Arthur Kirkland?"

England grimaced. "Penny. What are you doing…?" He opened his eyes and scowled. "And the frog, too. Did you follow me?"

"Of course, mon ami." France said cheerfully.

"Affirmative. Arthur Kirkland departed from the hospital alone. Alfred F. Jones cares for Arthur Kirkland thus it is logical that I should accompany you to ensure you do not come to harm." Penny said.

"I can take care of myself." England informed her flatly.

Penny stared at him, not blinking. "That statement may be factual but you should not be alone when you are distressed."

"I'm not distressed." England growled.

"Alfred has given similar denials in the past." Penny noted. "Is such denial a common response in your family?"

England gaped at her.

"She does have a point, Arthur." France chuckled.

England's eye twitched. "Leave me alone."

"Non."

"Negative."

England's patience dwindled. He glared at France. "Do you know why I'm out here?"

"I guess it has something to do with Alfred." France said blandly.

England glowered at him, infuriated by his light tone. "Do you know what that idiot asked of me?"

France's smile faded.

Penny frowned. "Please do not call Alfred that word." she said quietly.

England shot her a glance but relented, not in the mood to argue with her. "Fine.  _Alfred_  wants me to put him in a magical coma."

France flinched.

Penny's fingers twitched, flexing. "Elaborate." she said, a metallic twang to her voice.

"He wants a sleeping curse to use if he is captured." England hissed.

Penny relaxed.

France's expression cleared. "I see."

"'You see'?" England breathed. "'You  _see_ '? He wants me to  _curse him!_ "

Despite his shout, neither member of his audience recoiled.

"Definition of 'curse':" Penny stated. "'A solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.' The sleeping spell is not a curse."

England scowled. "It bloody well is a—"

"Non. It is a mercy." France interrupted quietly.

England's retort died in his throat.

France sat beside him and settled his arms the step behind him as he leaned back, staring up at the night sky. "Alfred has been held against his will and faced capture three— no,  _five_  times. Atlas, Polendina, Ironwood twice, and Hazel. The forces in conflict on Remnant all seek to use Alfred, and so they hunt him. They  _hurt_  him over and over. They nearly captured him  _again_ today. We should know by now that the enemy may retrieve him. We… cannot protect him."

"So I should curse my brother to 'protect' him?" England demanded.

"It would not be a curse." France repeated quietly.

His eyes grew shadowed and he rubbed the inside of his left elbow. England eyed France, and his gaze inadvertently followed the curve of his cheekbone. It used to not be so pronounced, but after the Institute, it was clearly displayed, jutting out from a face that was thinner than it had been before Atlas got hold of him.

"The presence of the violet light indicates Arthur Kirkland is about to use his Semblance." Penny noted.

England looked down and saw she was right. He gritted his teeth, glaring at his hand again until the light faded.

"The dispelling of the violet light indicates Arthur Kirkland is not about to use his Semblance." She almost appeared disappointed.

"How can you agree with him?" England demanded. "Don't you understand what he is implying? He would rather  _kill himself_ than fall into the enemy's hands."

"If I were him, I would choose the same." France admitted. England flinched and he smiled bitterly. "Do you think less of me, Angleterre?"

"Never." England swore.

France's smile softened. His words did not. "Alfred is not asking in order to escape the waking world. He is asking so that he does not break if Salem retrieves him. He did not divulge all of the details of his previous imprisonments but I can put the pieces together. So can you. Salem and her forces will not show him mercy, Arthur. They. Will.  _Torture him._  You can save him from that at least."

England repressed a shudder, looking away. "Alfred does not know what he is asking."

"He does, mon ami." France said quietly. "He  _knows_."

And England knew he had lost. His shoulders slumped wearily and he put his head in his hands. "You're right. He isn't naive. He isn't a child. He isn't a fool. He is still putting everyone else ahead of himself."

Because if America was captured, they might not be able to rescue him before he broke and did what Salem wanted. Because if Salem recovered the Relic of Choice, she would be able to complete her plans and both Remnant and Earth may fall. Atlas had put the weight of two worlds on America's shoulders, and he had no choice but to bear the consequences of that or let billions die. And like the heroic fool he was, America continued to sacrifice more and more and more in order to protect those that he loved, and by extension those that were far from deserving. And no matter how much he wanted to, England could not withhold the spell that may ensure all those sacrifices were not in vain.

But damn it all,  _why_  did it have to be England's little brother?

England's anger bubbled like magma beneath his skin. "I have half a mind to say  _to hell_  with this world." he spat. "If I could, I would drag America back to Earth and demand the UN blow Remnant to bits. That would take care of all of our problems."

"You do not mean that." France said gently.

England glowered at him. " _Don't_  I?"

France eyed him levelly. "You would wish to blow Remnant up? You would destroy Team RWBY's home? You would demand a nuclear strike on people uninvolved in Atlas, Salem, and Ozpin's immoral plans? Don't pretend that your anger blinds you. Truthfully, only Atlas and Salem are responsible for these tragedies. And perhaps Ozpin if you see his actions as a reason for how things unfolded. But what of Vale, who has done nothing but been attacked? What of Sun's Kingdom, Vacuo, and Pyrrha's home, Mistral? What of Blake's distant island of Menagerie? They are  _completely_  uninvolved in this other than being victims of Salem. They did not come to Earth and drag America and Canada here.  _Atlas_  did, because of  _Salem's_  actions, and while Salem's location is unknown, Atlas is already defeated. Would you blindly attack Remnant for the  _chance_  of defeating Salem and send a petty message of needless violence to those who have done nothing wrong?"

England crossed his arms and remained silent, keeping his emotions off his face.

France sighed heavily and dragged a hand through his hair. "It does not matter. Unless you miraculously located Salem, found another way to separate America from Vale—" England's stony silence said enough. "—or want to risk America's health further by attacking Remnant as Salem has, I  _know_  you do not mean those words. You may be prickly, mon ami, but you would never wish death upon this world."

Their gazes locked, filled with tension.

England looked away first. "Shut up, frog. I've had enough of your prattle." His teeth clenched. "And I already know the only thing I can do."

France grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers lightly. "I'm sorry, Arthur." he whispered.

"Don't apologize." England grunted. "The spell needs to be done as soon as possible. We are going to have to leave this blasted city."

France grimaced. "You're right. Salem will not let a few civilians get between her and Vale. I would like to claim we can easily fly over the uninhabited stretches filled with Grim but I'd like to prepare for the worst."

"Has Ozpin said anything yet?" England asked and he could not deny the vitriol in his voice.

France acknowledged it with an inclination of his head. "He has been quiet. I think the loss of the Relic of Creation shook him."

"Alfred F. Jones is the last." Penny murmured.

England shivered. He rose from the stairs. "We need to get back. Alfred will find some way to find trouble if we delay."

"There is a connection between separation from Alfred F. Jones and Alfred F. Jones's discovery of trouble." Penny agreed solemnly.

England huffed and led the way back into the hospital.

He opened the door to America's room to find Canada sitting in a guest chair, his weapon in his lap. The nation met his gaze, unashamed, and opened his mouth. England held up a hand to stall him and approached America, touching his arm. His brother flinched away, tucking his head to cover his throat. Blue and green eyes snapped open— wild with panic— but upon spotting England he relaxed.

"Hi." America whispered.

England could not change his scowl. "I'll do it."

America immediately sat up. "Art—"

"Come here before I change my mind." England snapped.

America leaned over and hugged him. "Thank you."

England's eyes prickled. He must have gotten dirt in them. "You should not be thanking me for this."

America's expression softened sympathetically. England almost hated him for it. "I know you don't want to do this."

"But I will." England forced out. He turned and glared at France, Canada, and Penny. "All of you, out." He paused. "Except Matthew."

France walked out without protest. Penny followed at a slower pace, expression unnaturally smooth. America met her gaze and she frowned, but exited the room, shutting the door. America clasped his hands in his lap. His knuckles turned white.

"So what do we have to do? Do we need a spindle or something?" he glanced at Canada. "Or do we need a human sacrifice? Run, Mattie. Save yourself."

Canada shook his head and looked to the sky for patience. England wanted to snap at America for making a joke at a time like this but his brother's tense posture and trembling hands stopped him. He knew America joked to cope. England just couldn't stand it because he knew his brother might cry if he was denied that fake relief.

"No, we don't need any of that." England groused. "I would like to tell Matthew how to wake you in case I am unable to."

America froze, smile growing strained. "Right. Waking up. That's kinda important."

England shot him a glower and took out his magic book, flipping to the correct page. He had considered using a sleeping spell more than once on different nations for reasons varying from strategic to petty, but had never gone through with it. Magic was not something to play with, and although this particular curse was simple enough to perform and lift, he did not want to risk something going wrong. Yet here he was, casting it on his younger brother at his request. It disturbed England that there was a specific spell for a self-inflicted sleeping curse in the tome.

England put a hand on America's forehead and paused. Blue and green eyes blinked at him calmly. America should not be that calm. He should not be waiting there patiently as if he was letting England check his temperature. He should not be, but he was. Even worse, he was not uneasy in the slightest. Because he trusted England, or because he had prepared himself for this moment? It was so obvious that America had been thinking about using a sleeping spell for a long time.

England's eyes prickled but he gritted his teeth, and began to chant. The sleeping spell was nowhere near as flashy as the soul-protecting one, and the only proof that it worked was the dark blue symbols that flashed briefly in America's eyes. America looked down at his hands, evidently surprised by the lack of fanfare, and briefly his expression crumpled. England lowered his hand and closed his book with a snap, turning away.

"To activate it you must mentally count to ten in Latin. I'm sure you can handle that."

"Yeah." America murmured. "Thank—"

" _Don't_." England whispered, as sharp as a whip.

America reached out but England stepped away, his book clutched defensively to his chest. He pretended not to notice the hurt that flashed through his brother's face. It was covered by a smile.

"So how do you wake me up? Does Canada need to find me royalty for True Love's kiss?" America wrinkled his nose. "I hope not. Kissing is boring. And icky. Can't they wake me with video game sounds or the smell of food?"

"That doesn't sound like a very secure way to lift the spell." Canada noted lightly.

"The spell is lifted with ' _Rennevere evligium_ '." England interrupted stiffly.

"Got it." Canada said solemnly.

"That's it?" America muttered.

"Did you expect a paragraph?" England snarled.

America's smile faded. "No. I'm sorry. Just trying and failing to lighten the mood." He laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling contemplatively before looking back down. "Arthur, I—"

The door clicked shut behind England, cutting off what he was going to say.


	11. Departure

America walked triumphantly out of the hospital and shared a grin with Nora as she did the same. He skin tone was a little ashen and hers was still three shades too pale— and her shoulder was wrapped in precautionary gauze— but she stood on her own two feet.

America could not help but worry about her. Even with Jaune's Semblance assisting, she was out unnaturally fast, a mere two days after she had been admitted. Even worse, he was not sure he could he fully trust that the staff of the hospital had their patients' best interests at heart. Although they forced America to stay in their care to make sure he was not about to suffer another panic attack, they were a bit too eager to see the Huntsmen and Huntresses leave. Whether it was because the uninjured stood guard both nights— an act done without demand for payment that one would  _think_  would be appreciated— or because of some folktales that people with active Auras attracted Grimm, the staff was happy to see them go. That did not stop their friends from hovering.

"Are you sure you should be walking?" Jaune fretted as he lingered at Nora's shoulder like a frazzled bee. "Maybe you should sit down. Should I ask for a wheelchair? Do you want some water?"

Unlike Jaune, Canada did not voice his concerns. Instead he stared at America like his twin might vanish if he blinked. England, on the other hand, kept his distance. Yet even with that distance, America could smell the sour tang of alcohol lingering around his brother. There was no question where England went the past couple days.

America's stomach sank with guilt and his skin crawled as he recalled the spells. He repressed a shiver. They felt  _wrong_ , and the soul-protecting one  _hurt_ , not that he would ever admit that to England. His older brother still shot him looks when he thought America would not notice, staring at him like he would drop any second.

America decided he would give his older brother space even though his insecurities stirred when he thought of England's anger. What if the worst happened today? He did not want to leave England with regrets. But he did not want to take the first step to mending things…  _again_.

Nora finally had enough and waved Jaune's hands away. "I'm all healed up." she said. "Stop fretting."

Jaune looked unconvinced. "You took a blade through the shoulder."

"I remember." Nora said dryly and Jaune cringed. "Stop worrying. Kiss your girlfriend."

Jaune turned red. Pyrrha chuckled. Nora glanced sidelong at Ren but he did not appear to notice. The hospital door swung open and Italy came out, pushing Romano in a wheelchair. America's heart skipped a beat before he noticed Romano's scowl. Said scowl deepened when he saw America and Nora.

"Why the hell aren't you two stuck in one of these?" he demanded.

"We asked to walk.  _Really_  nicely." America said innocently.

Romano gnashed his teeth and stood up, shaking off Italy's hand. He walked a couple steps and grumbled, rubbing his back.

America counted heads and frowned. "Where's Winter, Oscar, and Team RWBY?"

"They're saying goodbye." Canada said quietly.

America paused. "Oh."  _We're leaving?_

" _Its not like we can stick around."_  Vale pointed out.

America sighed and England glanced his way. His gaze sharpened and he stepped in front of America, pushing him roughly behind him. Penny's backpack clicked and her weapons floated freely at her shoulders. America's hands ignited but he let the fire fade when he saw who his overprotective companions were glowering at.

"What are you doing here?" England growled.

Doctor Charon raised his hands peacefully. "I mean no harm. I merely wish to speak with Alfred—"

"You've spoken to him enough." England snapped.

Charon winced.

America put a hand on his brother's arm and stopped him from telling the doctor  _exactly_  what he thought of him. Or maybe from blasting the man to smithereens. "Arthur, it's okay." He looked to the doctor and nodded to a set of stairs across the street. "We can talk right there."

England scowled but stepped aside.

Penny did not lower her weapons. "I will accompany you." she stated.

"Pen—"

"I  _will accompany you_." she repeated.

America did not object. He followed Charon to the stairs and watched the man sit heavily on them. America descended more gracefully, and took the time to scrutinize the doctor. Dark bags lined his eyes and his skin was sallower than it had been a couple days ago. His hair was unkempt, and he held himself like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. The doctor almost seemed smaller, like he had lost physical mass overnight.

"I'm sorry."

America's thoughts screeched to a halt and rebooted. He still failed to understand the words. "What?"

"I'm sorry." Charon repeated. "I've wronged you."

Unsure of how to respond, America glanced helplessly at Penny, but her back was to him as she stood guard. He looked back to Charon.

The doctor met his gaze firmly. "I treated you unfairly. I put the investigation before your health and my duty as a doctor. I wanted— needed Ironwood to be brought to justice so I ignored my better nature. I just wanted you to know I regret it."

America nibbled his lip. "...Who did you lose?" he asked quietly.

"My brother." Charon said quietly. "He was a soldier like myself but he was in Atlas when the borders closed. He objected to the Institute."

America could fill in the blanks. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Charon said softly. "My grief does not excuse my treatment of you. Though… it may explain why I was given the task of investigating Ironwood."

"Why are you a doctor  _and_  an investigator?" America asked curiously.

The perplexed look Charon gave him soon morphed into one of comprehension. "Ah. I forget that other Kingdoms run their military differently than Atlas. In order to be a doctor in the Atlas military, you must also perform other duties."

"I don't understand." America said plainly. Something clicked and his eyes widened. "Wait… are you saying that Atlas's military doesn't have  _medics_?"

"There are medics." Charon explained patiently. "But those medics are also active combatants and have duties in other fields. It was implemented since Atlas's inception as a way to expand the skill-sets of Atlas's military personnel and compile resources more efficiently. I chose to become an investigator in the hopes of avoiding inflicting harm." His visage darkened. "You may find it odd considering my recent… passion, but I have no desire to harm anyone."

America stared at him mutely. What he explained was not 'expanding skill-sets'. That was the clear definition of  _horrifying_. Charon was implying that Atlas saw personnel that only healed and cared for the wounded as a  _waste of resources,_ so they were forced to take on more combat-oriented and violent roles as well. America's lip curled in disgust.

" _Atlas's corruption and arrogance ran deep. Ozpin should never have trusted her with a Relic."_  Vale said. Her mood soured but she said nothing more.

"I have seen my error." Charon said suddenly. "Which is why I will resign tomorrow."

"What?" America blurted. A thought struck him. "They're not blaming you for Ironwood's escape are they?"

Charon shook his head. "No. I am merely moving on. Atlas is no more, so my time serving it has passed." He rose from his seat. "Goodbye, Alfred."

America shook his offered hand. He watched the doctor walk away until he disappeared around a corner.

"Alfred?" Penny said. "I have a question."

"What is it?" America asked.

Unblinking green eyes scrutinized him. "Why are you not angry with Doctor Charon?"

America considered her question and shrugged. "There are bigger things to be angry about. I don't want to spend my life holding petty grudges."

"I do not compute." Penny stated. Her eyes narrowed. "He put you in danger. He put his goals over your health."

America shot her a befuddled look but she said nothing more. "Might as well move on before Arthur bursts a blood vessel."

"How likely is that—" Penny paused. "Are you 'joking'?"

"Yes!" America cheered. "Good job, Penny."

Her lips twitched but she did not smile. Vale shifted in America's mind and he directed his attention to her.

_Something you want to say?_

" _Do you really not hold grudges?"_

_I never said that. I just said there are bigger things to hold grudges for._

Vale considered his words. _"Indeed there are."_ she murmured, vitriol dipping into her voice.

America frowned as he crossed the street back to the others.  _Do you have a grudge against someone?_

" _Only one person."_

 _Who?_ America asked curiously.

Vale's mood darkened like a shadow brushing his mind.  _"Take a wild guess."_

_Salem? Mistral? Atlas?_

" _No."_

America considered the street below his feet. He looked to his friends, noting that Team RWBY was still absent. Oscar was gone as well. A chill went up his spine.

_...Ozpin?_

Her silence said it all.

Something cold settled in America's gut.  _What did he do?_

Vale laughed, brittle and harsh.  _"You're asking the wrong question. What_ _ **didn't**_ _he do?"_

XXXXXXX

Qrow petted Ruby's hair as she curled up against his side, clinging to his flimsy hospital gown like a lifeline. Yang was more composed than her sister but struggled to hold herself together, her eyes suspiciously bright.

"Hey, don't cry over a dusty old bird like me." Qrow said.

"You called yourself old again." Yang joked weakly.

"I guess I did." Qrow said lightly. He sobered. "We all know my part in this fight is over. It's time for you to move on without me."

"But you'll be alone." Ruby whispered, distressed.

Qrow chuckled. "Nah. I'll have plenty of hot nurses to keep me company."

"Ew." Yang complained.

Qrow smirked. It soon faded. "Don't worry about me. I'm set for my hospital stay and Weiss's brother has a few tricks up his sleeves if the hospital staff tries to pull something." He shook his head wryly. "To think I'm trusting a Schnee."

Ruby nibbled on her lip until it turned red. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she pressed.

"Yes." Qrow said patiently. "Now shoo. Go on your mission before I have to kick you out."

"Oh really? How would you manage that?" Yang asked teasingly.

Qrow smirked. "One time I was in a pub in Vacuo and there was this hot bartender. Pretty face, nice chest, great ass—"

" _Stoooopppppppp._ " Yang wailed.

Ruby giggled helplessly and wiped at her eye. "We'll ask Alfred to boost our Scrolls signals so we can call you every day." she promised.

Qrow's lips twitched. "Every day?"

"Well, maybe not every day." Ruby amended. "But definitely every other day."

Qrow chuckled. "I look forward to it."

His nieces exchanged a look before they crushed him in a hug.

"We'll be back." Yang promised.

"We'll miss you." Ruby said.

Qrow kissed the tops of their heads. "Go save the world. Make me proud."

Ruby's eye filled with tears but she only sniffled, nodding. She grabbed Crescent Rose from where it leaned against the wall and the two Huntresses gave Qrow one final embrace before departing. Once the door clicked shut, Qrow let his smile fade.

"How long have you been there?"

Ozpin stepped closer to the bed and laid his hands atop his cane. "Not long. Your nieces failed to notice me."

"Obviously." Qrow said dryly.

He shifted on his pillows and grimaced when his legs failed to move. The lack of feeling down there was still disconcerting. Qrow still had legs but he could not do a damn thing with them. He was tempted to see if his bird form was affected but feared the answer. So here he was. The mighty Qrow Branwen was bedridden and paralyzed, unable to walk and certainly unable to fight. As Ozpin clearly knew.

"Are you going to keep staring or is there something you want to say?" Qrow asked.

Ozpin sat down in a plastic chair and gazed at his cane. "We are reaching the final battle." he said softly.

"Are you excited?" Qrow prompted.

"If our victory was more assured, I would be." Ozpin said. "But Salem has three Relics of four. We are fighting an uphill battle..."

"Oh,  _no_." Qrow said sharply. "Don't you start doubting yourself now, Oz. You've made it too far. Hell, you're in the last stretch. You'll pull it off."

Ozpin blinked, startled, and smiled thinly. "It seems Ms. Rose's optimism has rubbed off on you."

"Maybe." Qrow grunted noncommittally. He frowned. "But that's not why you're here."

"No." Ozpin said. "I simply wanted to thank you for everything you've done."

"I didn't do it for you." Qrow scoffed, but his red eyes softened.

"I know. I thank you all the same." Ozpin said. He rose from his seat. "Goodbye, Qrow. Perhaps we will meet again someday."

Qrow watched him depart and laid his head back on his pillows. "You bastard. You're not coming back."

XXXXXXX

Blake searched Sun's peaceful face, scrutinizing it for any sign of change. Not a single muscle twitched beneath his pale skin, skin that was already losing its color from either the lack of sunlight or bad health. The news played in the background, muffled to even her cat ears, but Blake could not find the energy to turn it off and leave silence.

Weiss had tried to draw her into a conversation but had given up before dawn. Blake was in no mood to talk but appreciated her quiet companionship regardless. So they merely sat at Sun's bedside all night without getting a wink of sleep. As the news droned on and on about rising Dust prices, Weiss looked at her Scroll and finally broke the heavy silence.

"Everyone's packing up. Is there anything you need?"

Blake shook her head.

Weiss sent a response to whoever messaged her and returned the Scroll to her pocket. She shifted uncomfortably on the plastic hospital chair. "...Do you want to stay here?"

Blake shook her head again. "No. Sun would pester me if I did."

She could hear the monkey Faunus badgering her over such a decision, poking and cajoling her until she went with her team. That did not make her feel better about leaving him behind. Weiss did not attempt to change her mind. The news moved on to cover a string of Grimm sightings on Beacon's grounds. They were moving closer to the outskirts of the Academy's property. Or they were tightening security and patrolling the border?

"Hey." Weiss grabbed her hands, holding them both gently. "Once we've won, we can figure things out. Maybe defeating Emerald will wake him up. Or we can use a Relic. Sun..." She hesitated but carried on. "Sun  _isn't_  dead. We can still save him."

"I want to believe that." Blake whispered.

"Then believe." Weiss said firmly. "He wouldn't want you mourning him like this."

Blake's ears perked up and her lips twitched. "You're right." She stood and took Sun's cold, limp hand. "I promise I'll be back. Hang on, okay?"

Sun did not answer.

Blake sighed, ears drooping, but looked to the door.

"Right." Weiss said awkwardly. "Let's head to the air..."

She trailed off, staring the screen. Blake followed her gaze. On the news, a static-covered and glitching Lisa Lavender frowned back at them. The newsroom grew choppy as lines of static crossed the screen and the reporter's picture copied itself, growing fuzzy.

" _We appear to be having technical difficulties."_ her crackling voice said.  _"Please stand by why we—"_

The screen turned completely into snow-like static, then went black. A clear image appeared on the screen, showing a human man and Faunus woman standing side by side on what appeared to be a platform. Both wore pieces of armor over their civilian clothes, and masks covered their features except their eyes and the woman's bear ears. More masked figures stood in a line behind them, rifles in their hands, and their faces completely covered, leaving even their eyes masked.

" _People of Remnant."_  the woman began without preamble. " _A new era is upon us. Faunus, humans, Huntsmen and civilians; united as one against our common enemy, an enemy that has plagued us since the inception of the Kingdom of Atlas. I speak not of the Grimm, but of those that seek to divide us, that wish to shackle us in the chains of poverty. Those that looked down upon us, that trapped us beneath their iron boots and told us we did not have the strength to rise. But they were_ _ **wrong**_ _."_

The woman glared at the screen, and if Blake did not know better she'd say she was glaring directly at her.  _"Our eyes have been opened. We have found the strength they tried to hide from us. Together, we have fought those that kept us in oppressive squalor. We won."_

She nodded off-screen and a hooded figure was dragged into frame by two masked figures. The two held their prisoner by his bound arms as the Faunus woman approached and yanked the hood from the bound man's head.

Jacques Schnee glared at the camera. His suit was dirty and torn, and his pale cheeks colored purple with bruises and cuts. Blake's eyes snapped to Weiss but the former heiress had no reaction, staring at the screen with a blank expression on her face.

" _This is Jacques Schnee, the CEO of the infamous Schnee Dust Company."_  the woman declared as she paced around the disheveled man.  _"He is also a_ _ **murderer,**_ _and an instigator of_ _ **mass genocide**_ _. Thousands of workers died in his mines, and thousands more in the Institute he helped create. They left behind families, friends, children. And yet this fine member of Atlas's Council cared only for the Lien he lost. The Schnee family took and took from those that worked for them, but did they ever give in return?"_

" _ **NO!**_ _"_ an unseen crowd roared.

The woman's eyes glittered.  _"No, he did not. The SDC's greed took people's livelihood. It took their lives. And yet this man sought to take more from us by massacring those whose lives he saw as a waste. And the Council he was a part of let him. After all, cutting off heating to the slums would 'help preserve our dwindling Dust supplies for those that actually pay taxes.'"_

The crowd booed.

The woman halted in front of Jacques Schnee.  _"The corrupted, tyrannical Kingdom of Atlas is no more. No longer are we the footstools of the selfish rich. No longer are we oppressed. We are equals. We are free. So let us erase the source of Atlas's corruption. We won't be shackled!"_

" _ **We are free!**_ _"_  the crowd screamed.

Blake slowly realized that this was not a publicized trial. Jacques Schnee was not there to be questioned and given a guilty verdict. He was not there to be asked if he regretted his crimes. Her heart turned to ice.

The line of masked people stepped aside and Jacques Schnee was shoved against the wall. The CEO of the SDC said nothing, still glaring at the camera as the rebels stepped back into frame. They aimed and Blake lurched forward and covered Weiss's eyes.

The sharp cracks of gunshots pierced her ears and she averted her gaze. Off-screen, the crowd roared in approval. Blake glanced at the screen and pulled Weiss's head to her chest, frantically searching for the remote. She spotted the thin black device and dragged Weiss with her as she lunged for it, turning off the news.

When the screen went black, Blake finally pulled away from Weiss. Glazed blue eyes looked up at her but Blake knew her friend did not see her. Abruptly, Weiss shoved her away and walked out of the room.

Blake followed her into the hall and whispers immediately reached her ears. They were not the only ones to see the broadcast. She hurried to walk at Weiss's side but was not acknowledged. They exited the hospital and were immediately set upon by Ruby and Yang. The silver-eyed girl's skin was ashen and her arms raised, but Weiss stepped back, raising a hand to ward off her partner's hug.

"I need to go." Weiss mumbled vaguely.

She brushed past her team and summoned a glyph, speeding down the street. Ruby made to follow but Yang stopped her. "Don't, Ruby." she said quietly.

Ruby's expression contorted with distress. "But Weiss—"

"We'll meet up with her later." Yang's calm facade cracked. "I think we all know where she's going."

XXXXXXX

Weiss activated another glyph and skated around a corner. She activated another glyph and launched herself over a startled driver's truck. She activated another glyph and propelled herself into the air. Another shot her along the ground, as graceful as an ice skater. It was all instinct, with no thought involved. She couldn't think. Her mind was static. Just static. Static like before the broadcast—

 _They wouldn't have been able to get live footage from Atlas with the CCT down. The broadcast wasn't interrupted. It was a_ _**publicity stunt** _ _—_

No.  _No_.

She couldn't think.

She  _couldn't_  think.

By extension, she couldn't feel.

Good.

Her instincts took her along an unfamiliar path, but she recognized the destination. She halted outside the plain green door and patted her pockets, only to realize she did not have a key. Weiss stared at the closed door and her eyes burned. She didn't have a key. She couldn't get in. It was almost enough to make her cry but she wasn't going to not like this not now not—

The door opened and Whitley beamed at her. "Hello, sister. I saw you speed up here. Not to be boorish, but surely there are facilities at the hospital."

An eyebrow cocked at her mockingly. Once, she would have thought it was malicious. Now, she knew it was his way of teasing. She did not move from the entrance. Whitley glanced behind him and took her hand, pulling her past open boxes.

"Don't just stand there. I know it's a bit of a mess, but of course we're still moving in." He deftly stepped over a box filled with papers. "Just watch your step. I think there's drinking glasses in one of these. But don't be concerned. Klein put all of your things in your bag for your trip—"

"Father is dead. They showed his execution on the news."

The words escaped her before she could stop them. They hung in the air like a crumbling mountain slowly falling down on top of them. Whitley froze, his hand still in hers. His eyes flicked up to her face and went round. He lips twitched and he smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Sister, it's very barbaric to joke about things like that—"

Weiss silently shook her head and Whitley's jaw clicked shut. His forced smile faded and he stare at her. The expression on his face reminded her of a small, bedraggled puppy she had found when she was a child. The poor thing had been lost and alone, somehow having found itself inside a less-used wing of the mansion. When Weiss showed her find to him, Klein had guessed it came in through an open delivery door. Jacques had curled his lip at the mangy thing and took it from her before she could gather the courage to ask to keep it. Weiss never saw it again. Her father probably had someone kill it. He had no problems with killing people, after all.

Weiss's vision blurred. She did not yet cry, and was not sure what she wanted to cry for. Was it her father's de—what happened? Or was it the slow realization of the implications that dragged her down?

_I became a Huntress to redeem this family._

And now her family's crimes had been put on display for the world to see. She wanted to redeem the Schnee Dust Company but the fall of Atlas made that impossible. With the loss of Atlas and its CEO, the company would crumble. What was gone could no longer be redeemed. Her fight to go to Beacon and escape from Atlas were all for—

Pounding footsteps reached her ears. The door opened and Winter rushed through. Th oldest sister looked as calm and composed as always but the way she swept over and hugged them was all wrong. Weiss exchanged a look with an equally confused Whitley.

"Winter?" she asked timidly.

Their older sister did not release them. "Are you alright?" Her voice was low and raspy. "Did… Did you see the news?"

Weiss swallowed.

"We know about father." Whitley said quietly.

Winter tensed. She did not cry. None of them did. Instead they stood in emotionally-repressed silence. Weiss had to break it before it broke her.

"I—"

"I'm not sad." Whitley said. His pale brow furrowed and discomfort danced in his icy blue eyes. "Father is dead but I'm not grieving… Is something wrong with me?"

"No." Weiss said instantly. "Our relationship with Father was… complicated."

She did not know what else to say, not when she herself was wondering why she mourned the loss of her dream more than the man who fathered her. Then warm arms encased them all and she became trapped in the calm kindness of Klein's brown eyes.

"No matter what you feel, or don't, it is alright." he said firmly, holding them all securely in his arms. "Jacques Schnee was a complex man, but he was still your father."

"Was." Weiss echoed.

A tremor passed over Whitley's face but he did not cry. No tears swam in his eyes. Weiss wondered if he struggled not to grieve, or felt guilty for being unable to.

"Do you need us to stay?" she asked.

Whitley understood what she was asking and shook his head. "No. Klein and I will be alright. Our position here is secure. And…" He hesitated. "You need to save the world. I have ears. I know what's going on."

Weiss shared a pained look with Winter. Her sister did not appear conflicted about having to leave, and Weiss did not either. Taking time to grieve when she was not sure if she needed— or even  _wanted_ — to felt… wrong.

Weiss hugged her brother tightly. "We'll be back."

Whitley wiped at his eyes. "You had better."

"We  _will_." Weiss repeated.

Winter said nothing.

Klein handed them their bags and they hugged him once last time before departing. Weiss turned back as the door clicked shut.

"If you need time, no one will begrudge you." Winter said quietly.

Weiss shook her head. "No. I won't be left behind again. We're finishing this. Together."

Winter nodded in assent. Her expression was smooth, all comfort gone, and Weiss was relieved. She was not the only one who felt nothing. Jacques Schnee was dead but…

" _Young lady, I don't give a damn about what you want. This isn't about you! This is about the Schnee family name, and your apparent insistence on dragging it through the mud."_

_**Slap!** _

" _This behavior of yours is incredibly disappointing. You couldn't possibly understand the lengths I've gone to in order to keep this family where it is. You think running off like your sister is going to make the Schnee name stronger? You're wrong. Siding with her only divides us."_

" _You're not leaving Atlas. You're not to leave the manor grounds unless I specifically allow it. You are going to remain here, out of sight and out of trouble, until you and I come to an agreement on your future."_

" _You! Do you realize what you've cost me?"_

Jacques Schnee was her father.

But she did not grieve for him at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue in that last section was from RWBY Volume Four Episode Seven: Punished. I do not own.
> 
> Just so you are aware, I don't use Character Death Warnings or tags. I consider them to be spoilers.
> 
> Just saying.


	12. In Transit

"Aren't you going to set that down?" Weiss asked.

America looked at his backpack— which lay contently against his back— then to the other bags shoved into a corner of the cargo hold. Sterlyn's airship was not spacious by any definition of the word— or meant to transport so many people— but he was not about to complain. There was food, places to sleep, and his family and friends were there so he had everything he needed.

Well, except ways to distract himself. They were on their way to Vale. Specifically Beacon. They had a few stops along the way but the trip had begun. Thinking about Vale, the Relic, and Salem made his hands shake. He wasn't ready. Oh God  _he was not ready for this._  But he put on a cheerful face for his friends.

There was no time to sink into the pit he just crawled out of so he tried not to think about it. Instead he absently fiddled with his bag, reassured by its weight. He had an emergency blanket, Dust cartridges, a couple maps, some jerky, water, and dried fruit that would last him a few days at least—

"Alfred?" A hand touched his arm.

America jumped and looked to Weiss. "Yeah?"

She frowned at him. "I asked you a question."

America winced. "Oh. What was it?"

"Aren't you going to set that down?" she repeated, gesturing at his backpack.

America shook his head. "Nope. I'd rather not lose it."

Weiss shot him an exasperated look. "We're on a cargo ship.  _How_  would you lose it?"

"Alfred would find a way." Penny said solemnly.

"Would not." America pouted.

Penny stared at him.

" _Would not_." he repeated.

Weiss huffed. "Even so, you can set it down for a  _minute_."

"Why? Is it bothering you that you can't add it to your hoard?" America smiled brightly at her and she rolled her eyes.

"It's  _not_  my hoard." she claimed.

America eyed the pile and nodded solemnly. "Okay, its not a hoard. But you are kind of protective of it. Like a dragon."

"It has our  _supplies_  in it." Weiss enunciated. "We need to make sure nothing happens to them."

"Is that why you've been ready to lunge for it if something falls?" America asked. "None of that stuff is breakable, you know."

"I  _do_  know." Weiss sniffed.

The airship shuddered slightly and she dove forward, grabbing Ren's bag before it could topple off the pile. She gently placed it back and adjusted it, scowling when it failed to lay the way she wanted. She glared at America, who raised his hands defensively.

"I didn't say anything."

"You thought it." she accused.

"Did not. Vale can attest."

" _They can't hear me."_  Vale reminded him.

"I can't hear her." Weiss said right after.

America shrugged. "Well I assure you that I thought no such thing which you think I thought."

Weiss growled. "This is why I like Matthew better."

"Ouch. Low blow." America chuckled.

She sniffed at him and flounced over to her team, sitting beside Ruby with a huff. The silver-eyed girl giggled and scooted closer to her partner to pat her arm— just a little  _too_  close in fact. America could see through her "subtle" attempt to comfort Weiss with her presence, though Weiss herself seemed oblivious. Instead she turned her ire on her sleeve, which had the  _slightest_  crinkle. America did not comment on it. At a different time, he might have continued to tease her, but not now. If Weiss wanted to obsess over little things to cope, he would not deny her.

Weiss  _seemed_  to be handling her father's death well, and remained her usual brusque self for the first chunk of their trip to the-place-that-shall-not-be-named. She did not cry— there was no place for her to hide while doing so since the airship was so small. Except the bathroom, but she had not retreated there yet— nor did she mope or reminisce. From what America knew and had gleaned of her relationship with her father, he was not surprised. Jacques Schnee… was  _not_  a nice man.

With Weiss successfully distracted by Ruby, America turned back to his own conversation. The trip to the place that had the Relic of Choice  _ohshit_ — The trip to the place that would  _not_  be thought about was long, and teaching Penny was a good way to pass the time. Specifically, America had recruited Canada to help him teach his robotic friend about morality. In hindsight, he probably should have started such lessons at an earlier time but in his defense he'd been busy. Now that there was nothing to distract him, he may as well teach Penny about times when she shouldn't kill people. Preferably before she learned "morality" from Russia.

It did not help that Russia was watching their little group intently, a curious expression on his face. America did not need an overprotective robot guard-friend with Russia's mixed morals, thank you very much. He plopped down on the floor and crossed his legs into a pretzel.

"Okay." he said, looking from Penny to Canada. "Where were we?"

"Matthew Williams suggested that you create theoretical situations to help me gauge the proper responses." Penny said promptly.

America nodded. "Right. This first one is right out of the Hero's Handbook—"

"Is that book required reading for this subject?" Penny interrupted, features sharp with concentration.

"It's not an actual book, Penny." America explained. He paused. "I don't think it is, anyway."

"If it is, I'm hiding it from you." Canada said blandly.

America pouted at him. "Rude." He looked back to Penny. "First theoretical question: What do you do if there are civilians in danger?"

Penny computed the question and created a response. "If civilians are in danger it is likely we are in a combat situation. I would find and protect you, Alfred F. Jones."

America sighed, but did not judge her for her response. "Okay, well say that I'm with you. Right next to you, and not currently in danger. What would you do then?"

"I would remove myself and Alfred F. Jones from the dangerous situation." Penny said.

"And the civilians?" America pressed.

"I would leave them. They are inconsequential." She blinked. "Changes in your facial expression indicate that answer is incorrect."

"Kind of." America admitted. He glanced at Canada and brightened. "What if Mattie was there with us?"

Penny's head turned unnaturally to stare at Canada. Canada took her unblinking gaze in stride and smiled gently. Penny did not return the smile. In fact, she did not emote at all. America grimaced even though he knew Canada would not be offended if Penny said he was "inconsequential" too.

"If Matthew Williams was there as well I would protect him too."

America beamed. Canada held up a hand. Recognizing a signal to remain silent, America held his tongue.

"Why protect me as well?" Canada asked Penny.

"I would protect Matthew Williams because Alfred F. Jones cares for him." Penny stated.

America's shoulders slumped. Damn it. In hindsight, he should have made flashcards or something. Teaching a trigger-happy, mission-orientated robot that her protectorate was not the center of everything was a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated.

"...I would also protect Matthew Williams because he is..." Penny paused. "He is..." She frowned before giving up on her previous attempt to explain herself. "I find his company to be satisfactory."

"Why do you feel that way?" America asked eagerly.

Green eyes locked onto him. "Our morning ritual to wake him is… fulfilling. He is supportive of Alfred F. Jones and makes him happy."

Canada's cheeks reddened at her blunt statements while America's grin widened.

"He also does not expect me to be Penny Polendina." Penny added.

A few members of Teams RWBY and JNPR found the walls or ceiling of the airship to be extremely interesting all of a sudden. America saw Ruby's shoulders hunch and held back a wince. If Canada felt the need to cringe at her tactless statement, he did not show it.

"Well, I'd be hypocritical if I did. It sucks to be mistaken for someone you're not." Canada commented lightly.

"Sorry about that, bro." America said guiltily.

"It's fine." Canada assured him. "It doesn't happen anymore."

"What are you speaking of?" Penny asked.

"Mattie used to get mistaken for me a lot a while ago. One time Cuba attacked him because he thought Mattie was me." America said. "It doesn't happen anymore."

Penny's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to terminate this 'Cuba'?"

" _No_." America, Canada, Japan, England, and France all chorused.

"It was a mistake." Canada was quick to clarify. "He apologized and it never happened again."

Penny's smooth expression revealed none of her thoughts. America was not put at ease. She  _would_  remember this, and America could only hope his morality lessons would stick soon. Hopefully before she met Cuba. America was seriously beginning to worry she was compiling a hit-list in her databanks somewhere.

As the silence stretched on, America cleared his throat awkwardly. "Speaking of differences, I love the new look, Penny."

"Thank you. I find it is a vast improvement over my previous garb." the robotic girl said seriously.

Penny's old ensemble was gone, discarded back in Frontier. She had changed to wear a t-shirt and cargo capri pants instead of stockings paired with a new dress. Her shirt was a light blue, and her pants jet black with white-and-blue stars down one leg. Even her old shoes had been traded in for black hiking boots, which Weiss occasionally eyed in frustrated distaste. America did not understand Weiss's problem with the footwear. They were perfectly functional. He was not there when Penny informed Weiss of her choices in new attire, but Penny seemed to like them.

According to her, they did not hinder her mobility and the many pockets in the pants allowed her to carry things that might be needed "Should Alfred F. Jones find himself injured again". America could not help but note the complete lack of green and grey in her new clothes, but did not comment on it.

"So back to our lesson." America said. "Do you find anyone else's company to be satisfactory?"

Penny nodded. "Yes. If certain people on this airship were in the theoretical situation as well, I would take measures to remove them from it."

America noticed the lack of specific names. Penny did have  _some_  tact. 'Certain people' did not involve everyone on the airship, but it was a massive improvement over 'Protect Alfred F. Jones and leave everyone else to die'.

"You care about them?" America asked for clarification, hope blossoming in his chest.

"Affirmative." Penny stated. Her head tipped. "What does this have to do with the initial question?"

"When civilians are in danger, you should help them." Canada said bluntly.

Penny frowned. "But you and certain individuals on this airship are the ones I care about. Why would I extend protection to strangers?"

America sighed and dragged his hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way to get through to her. An idea struck him. "Think about it this way. You care about me, right?"

"Yes." Penny stated.

America smiled. "Well someone cares about those people. They'll be sad if they lose them. I mean, the situation isn't always that black and whi— that cut and— that easily discernible but you should always try to protect the innocent."

Penny analyzed his answer. "I compute."

America beamed. The sound of retching reached his ears and he grimaced. Jaune sat hunched in a corner as he once again sought to break the world record for longest retching session while his body tried to adjust. Pyrrha stayed loyally at his side while France stayed as far away as possible and listened to the music player Ruby had graciously let him borrow. France's head bobbed to the beat of whatever song it was that currently blocked out Jaune's groans.

Nora watched her team leader struggle with either oddly-placed enthusiasm or bile fascination. It was difficult to define the intense look on her face. As Jaune retched again, Yang groaned as well and slapped her hands over her ears.

"Someone, make him stop!" she wailed.

America put a hand on Penny's backpack before her weapons could emerge. Apparently they still needed to explain why stabbing things was not always the solution. A particularly nasty-sounding retch had him covering his own ears and Penny wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"The smell reaching my olfactory sensors is unpleasant. I  _request_  that it cease."

America 'casually' slung his arm across her shoulders and over her backpack, thus saving Jaune from a stabby demise. Another round of sounds made his gorge rise and he leaned over in order to cover his ears. Penny lifted his head up and covered them herself, lips dipping in displeasure. Even Japan was losing his stoic facade in favor of a grimace. Yang turned a new shade of green and turned to England, falling to her knees.

"Arthur, can't you do a spell or something?" Yang begged him.

England scowled… and paused. He opened his spellbook and flipped through it, stopping on a page close to the front. He approached Jaune and his bucket without fear and planted a hand on the knight's sweaty forehead. There was a brief flash. Jaune's skin turned to a more natural shade and his eyes lost their sunken look. He looked up at England and smiled weakly.

"Thanks." he rasped.

England grunted noncommittally. Oscar looked from the nation to Jaune, eyes round.

France looked at England and fell to his knees, arms open wide. "Marry me."

England smacked the top of his head with his spellbook. "No. Stupid frog."

Ruby giggled.

France pouted. "You break my heart, Angleterre."

"I'm so sorry." England said insincerely.

"I… I was  _joking_." Yang spluttered. "You had a spell to help him  _this whole time?_ "

England stuffed his book back into his bag. "Apparently. I've never had to use it."

"But we've gotten air and seasick plenty of times." Italy protested.

England's expression never changed. "As I've said, I've never had to use it."

Russia snorted.

Oscar stared at England intently.

With her source of entertainment gone, Nora groaned and flopped onto her back as she waved at the ceiling of the airship. "Ugggggghhhhhhh. I'm so  _bored_." she complained.

"Play a game." Weiss said unsympathetically.

"I already did." Nora cried. "There's nothing to do. We've been on this ship for ages."

"We've been in the airship for less than a day." Blake said blandly as she flipped a page in her book. "And we're going to be here for even more days unless you want to fly straight through Grimm territory. There's a specific flight path we have to follow or we'll be constantly swarmed."

"It's been too long." Nora groaned, completely ignoring Blake's repeated explanation. "I need the open air. I need the sun. I need  _space_. We can't even do Feliciano's Semblance training in here."

Italy froze. "Ve~?" he squeaked.

Nora sauntered over to him and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Don't act surprised. You have an awesome Semblance that you need to learn how to use." Her grin stretched madly across her face. "I'll help you!"

Italy looked faint.

"Stop scaring him, Nora." Ren chided. "And be happy we don't have to walk this time."

"That was terrible." France bemoaned.

"Arthur, could you teach me how to use magic?" Oscar blurted. As harsh green eyes landed on him, he froze like a deer in the headlights, eyes round. "Uh. You just did— I mean, I knew you could do magic— But Oz has magic and he hasn't— I mean, you don't have to—"

England said nothing as the poor boy stammered himself into meek silence. Instead he stood up and walked out of the cargo hold. America had half a mind to warn poor Sterlyn but realized that the snarky pilot could handle whatever rant England dished out. In fact, he'd probably find it entertaining.

Oscar looked to him helplessly. "What did I say?"

"Nothing inherently wrong." America rushed to reassure the poor kid. "It's just..."

"...a bad time." Canada finished lamely.

" _You really should talk to England about the whole spell thing."_  Vale commented bluntly.  _"I_ _ **think**_ _he might be upset."_

America sighed and rubbed his forehead.  _Thanks, Captain Obvious._

" _You're very welcome, Captain Dumbass."_

Oscar's shoulders slumped and he retreated to a corner with Blake. The Faunus silently pushed her pile of books towards him and he picked one up at random. The conversations that bubbled up were stilted and awkward and America reluctantly turned back to Penny.

"Where were we?"

"We were continuing our morality discussion." Penny said.

"Right." America said. "Next theoretical situation: If a child attacks me, what do you do?"

"Terminate the threat." Penny stated.

America sighed, unsurprised due to having already suspected such a response.

England appeared in the doorway. "Ruby, I need to speak with you."

Ruby froze in place with a nervous squeak.

Yang laughed. "Someone's in trouble~" she sang.

Ruby's skin blanched.

England rolled his eyes. "Just get over here."

Ruby ran out the door like her cloak was on fire. England muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and followed.

Weiss watched them go. "Should we be worried?"

"Nah." America said. He smiled bitterly. "Arthur's not mad at her."

XXXXXXX

Ruby was never a bad student, but she had a feeling this is what bad students felt like when they were called into the hall by an annoyed teacher. Or even worse, to the Headmaster's office. Logically, she knew Arthur would never harm her, but she bet he could turn her into a toad if he was grumpy enough— No,  _not_  grumpy. She did not think he was grumpy. Not at all. Why was he scowling at her? Was he reading her thoughts? Did he know she thought he was grumpy?

Arthur reached into his pocket and Ruby froze in place, wondering how she would wield a scythe with little frog arms—

"Here." Arthur grunted.

A closed hand shoved something at her and Ruby instinctively took it. She stared at the small blue-tinged white stone necklace in her palm, then slowly looked at Arthur's face.

"It's not my birthday." she said intelligently as her mind failed to divert from her previous line of thought.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course it's not. This is a talisman for your Silver Eyes...  _problem_."

Ruby's brain rebooted, only for shock to bring her thoughts to a grinding halt."You… made something?" she asked faintly, voice fuzzy and distant to her own ears.

Arthur huffed. "Of course I did. I promised I'd look, didn't I?"

Ruby stared at him.

"Wear this and it will help you stop yourself from using Silver Eyes." he continued briskly. "It won't help once they're active but it should keep you calm long enough that you do not go berserk. The chain is unbreakable and the talisman is made from moonstone—"

Ruby hugged him. Her vision blurred and she sniffled, hiding her face in his coat. Arthur stiffened in her arms and awkwardly patted her head. The overwhelmed look on her face would have made her laugh if she did not feel like blubbering.

"Thank you." she hiccuped. "I— I didn't actually think you'd find something."

Arthur shifted but did not break free of her hug like he easily could have. "Don't be like that." he ordered. "Silver Eyes are not an unstoppable menace you cannot hope to overcome, no matter what that bas— what Ozpin has to say. You're a strong, determined young lass, and if anyone can overcome this… obstacle, I believe it will be you." His gaze hardened to cold emeralds. "Just promise me one thing."

Ruby nodded hesitantly, eye never leaving the talisman.

Arthur hesitated and pulled free of her hug, laying a gentle hand atop her head as he leaned over to meet her gaze. "You need to at least learn how to resist Silver Eyes  _on your own_. This talisman is a crutch, and you cannot rely on it forever."

Ruby nodded and carefully put the chain over her head. The moonstone settled over her heart, warm even through her cloak and shirt. It was a comforting warmth, like hot cocoa or her Dad's hugs. Despite Arthur's warning, the talisman's presence already made her feel safer and more secure, like it was a security net ready to save her from a deadly fall. She was not looking forward to the day that net was removed, but if its removal was part of the deal to have it in the first place, she'd accept that.

"I promise to learn how to get some semblance of control over Silver Eyes." she vowed.

Arthur's harsh glare did not soften. "Good."

XXXXXXX

The low hum of Tony's ship was a soothing melody, and almost enough to lull Germany to sleep. Instead he sat at attention and glared at the nations of AGATE, daring any of them to not pay attention to what he had to say. It was already a lost cause.

Denmark bounced in his seat and grinned from ear to ear. "What do we have this time? Beringel? Nevermores? A Nuckelavee? Oh, I hope its a Nuckelavee!"

"I already told you what we are facing." Germany said flatly. He was ignored.

"Denmark, you don't need to wrestle a Nuckelavee to show off your strength. We know how strong you are." Norway said blandly.

Denmark failed to notice Norway's dry sarcasm and beamed. "Thanks Nor. I just want this mission to be interesting. We've been picking off Beowolves for weeks."

"Yeah, let's find a big one!" Korea agreed.

"Be grateful we haven't had trouble." Switzerland growled.

"It's hard to." Korea said. He ignored Switzerland's glower. "I mean, if we're just fighting small ones, there's probably something big lurking around somewhere."

Switzerland's scowl vanished as he considered the nation's surprisingly thoughtful response. The nations of AGATE looked at each other, an uncomfortable unease settling over them.

Poland shifted nervously and raised his hand. "How many Grimm did you say there are?"

Prussia scoffed derisively. "Oh,  _now_  you're taking this seriously since they're in your country."

Poland scowled at him, uncharacteristically on-edge. "Well excuse me for worrying about my people."

"Enough of that." Germany said before Prussia could retort. "Intel has tracked the Grimm to Białowieża Forest." The nations nodded solemnly and acted like he had not just told them this a few minutes ago, to his irritation.

"Are there any Spawners?" Austria asked testily.

Germany was unable to dissuade his fears. "If there are they've remained hidden."

"We really need a better way to find those monsters." Korea complained. "What if a bunch are hanging out in the Amazon or something? Or the bottom of the ocean? There's  _Ocean Grimm_ , you know. They're literal sea monsters."

Austria shivered.

"We know. Tony is working on creating a better tracking device." Germany assured them. He grimaced. "As is America's boss, I'm sure."

"I hope that's  _all_  they're working on." Lithuania muttered.

"What do you mean?" Finland asked.

Lithuania silently shook his head and did not answer though Germany had an inkling as to what he was insinuating. The nations' attempts to locate potential agents of Atlas were unsuccessful as of yet, so all they could do for now was put that mission aside and terminate the Grimm they found. And hope that America's boss did not find the spies of Remnant first.

The ship shuddered slightly, signifying they were slowing down from the breakneck speeds Tony's vessel was capable of. Denmark grinned eagerly and he and Korea began placing bets on what Grimm they would find in the forest. A few other nations chimed in and Germany felt a vein in his forehead twitch.

"Enough." Germany said sharply. "We're arriving in five… four… three..."

The nations stood in preparation, readying their weapons. The doors opened and they jumped down, landing in a dense forest Wheat swished softly in a light wind, and at first nothing seemed amiss. Germany's instincts screamed and he jumped back. The tall foliage shifted and a huge white head rose like a monster from the sea. The King Taijitu hissed. It struck but China smacked its head aside, allowing Germany to impale it through the head. Denmark leaped forward as the black head emerged and beheaded the snake with a single swipe. He landed with a smirk.

"Too easy." he crowed.

"Too cocky." Norway muttered.

Germany ignored them, scanning the obscuring layer of foliage and trees around them. "Stay alert everyone."

"When are we not?" Switzerland grumbled. He paused, glancing disapprovingly at a bouncing Denmark, and snorted derisively.

They split into their predetermined squads of four. Predetermined, but Germany was still forced to herd Finland and Sweden away from Denmark and Norway in order to keep an eye on the axe-wielding nation along with the undeniably reliable Lithuania. True to form, Denmark strode ahead, seemingly oblivious to Germany' warning glowers.

"I really hope there's more Grimm like that." he said eagerly. "No more Beowolves. Those things are boring."

Norway reached out and tugged his collar as a reprimand. "Stop that. You should be grateful we've only had to fight Beowolves for a while."

"I'd rather face a horde of Beowolves than another Spawner." Lithuania agreed.

"I'm not saying I want a Spawner." Denmark protested. "Just something more exciting than Beowolves."

A dark shape above the treeline caught Germany's eye. He sighed. "You're in luck."

Denmark followed the flight path of the Nevermore and his grin widened. "Now  _this_  is what I'm talking about!"

The Nevermore beat its wings, sending a storm of black feathers their way. Norway shoved Denmark aside and the feathers hit the ground, each one almost as tall as Germany. The Nevermore shrieked and dove towards them. Denmark cackled and clambered up a tree.

"Nor! Watch this!"

As the Nevermore shot towards him, he jumped, landing on the birds back. It shrieked angrily and twisted in the air with its unwanted passenger. Denmark whooped and clung to its feathers, laughing manically. Norway watched with an unimpressed expression, while Lithuania's face was frozen in horror.

_I'm going to kill him_ , Germany decided, torn between rushing after the Grimm or kneading his forehead.

The Nevermore twisted and bucked, flying erratically, but Denmark hung on, his wide grin visible even from the ground. He clambered up to the Nevermore's head and raised his axe, bringing it down on the Grimm's skull. Giant red eyes closed and the disintegrating body plunged towards the forest. Germany swore and grabbed Lithuania, yanking him away as the Grimm hit the trees, plowing through them and to the ground. Denmark yelped and fell from the Nevermore's back, rolling to a halt in the path of destruction its plunge left. The Nevermore's corpse slid to a halt and it slowly disintegrated into nothingness.

Norway turned away from the dead Grimm and walked up to Denmark, helping him to his feet. Then he yanked the taller nation's collar and smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!" Denmark yelped.

"Idiot." Norway said flatly. "We're here to fight Grimm, not kill the forest."

"It's fine." Denmark claimed. He looked behind him and did a double-take. "How mad is Poland going to be?"

"You might want to look out for invisible unicorns in the future." Norway said blandly.

Denmark winced.

Germany massaged his aching forehead. A moving shadow caught his eye and he raised his weapon. "There's more."

The nations immediately followed his gaze and fired into the trees, killing a few Beowolves mid-lunge. Years of combat experience took over and Germany's body went on autopilot as he spotted and terminated each target, firing almost robotically. In a disjointed way, he could almost admit Denmark was right. They were used to fighting Beowolves. Almost too used to it. He should take measures to ensure the Taskforce did not become complacent. There was no telling when something unexpected would emerge.

The Beowolves stopped pouring from the foliage and Germany lowered his gun. He spotted a small, dark figure and immediately raised his weapon again as red eyes emerged from the cover of green. The Ursa was small, not even close to the behemoth size of an Ursa Major, yet something about it made the hairs on Germany's nape stand on end.

The Ursa's eyes met his and his instincts  _screamed_. He backed away, keeping his gun pointed at the Grimm even as he put more distance between himself and it. The Ursa did not appear bothered by the weapon and its unblinking gaze never strayed from the nation. If Germany did not know any better, he would claim it was studying him curiously.

No, it was not a claim.

It was a  _fact_.

"Who are you?" he whispered to the Grimm.

Its red eyes gleamed.

" _Ya-ha!_ "

The Ursa's head turned left and it watched dispassionately as Denmark lunged for it. Germany's warning cry went unheeded as Denmark sliced through the Ursa. The red glow faded and the bear-like Grimm vanished into black smoke. Denmark smirked and hefted his axe onto his shoulder.

"And  _that's_  how it's done!" he crowed. "Why did you freeze, Germany?"

"That Grimm was intelligent." Germany said softly. "I could see it in its eyes."

Lithuania blanched.

Norway's eyes narrowed.

Denmark's victorious grin faltered. It reappeared before it could vanish. "Didn't stop me from slaying it. Don't be such a worrywart."

"Someone has to be." was all Germany said.

He did not mention how unconcerned the Grimm looked as Denmark killed it, as if its death was not even a minor inconvenience to it. But now was not the time to think about it. They had a job to do.

Yet as he led the others to another pack of young Beowolves, the image of the Ursa's intelligent red eyes refused to fade.


	13. Here, Kitty Kitty

Poland and Lithuania were friends. They might not always see eye to eye and sometimes Poland's eccentricities became too much to bear but Lithuania would not leave his friend to do things alone. That was why— despite his better judgment— he found himself in the town of Białowieża which lay within the Białowieża Forest, watching Poland fawn over a cute outfit and questioning his recent decisions in life.

When Poland asked him to help 'make sure no Grimm are stalking my people all creepily' Lithuania went with him with nothing more needing to be said. Their job done, the rest of AGATE had returned to base three days ago, with Germany warning the two they would have to find their own way home. Well, four. Lithuania had no idea how Austria had ended up with them instead of on the ship home but suspected that the nation had gotten lost on his way there.

Lithuania would not mind if Prussia was not with Austria. He watched the arrogant man flounce down the street while dragging poor Austria with him. Green eyes met violet and a look of resigned understanding passed between them.

"OMG look at these cute little buttons!" Poland cooed.

He dashed to a window, nearly knocking over a man as he passed. Lithuania stopped to help the poor stranger regain his balance.

"Sorry about that. My friend is… excitable." he said in Polish.

The man stared at him with bright teal eyes. "No… problem." he said slowly, his accent thick and uncertain.

Lithuania blinked and switched to English. "Ah, I'm sorry. I thought you were a local."

The man's expression cleared. "Oh, you speak— uh, English. I haven't gotten a grasp of Polish yet."

Something about the man's accent nagged at Lithuania. He could not place it. "Are you not from around here?" he asked politely.

The man grimaced. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not really." Lithuania demurred diplomatically. "If I may ask, where are you from?"

The man hesitated. "America."

That explained his hesitance and unfamiliarity with the language. American tourists had an unfair and often inaccurate stigma attached to them, to the point where some felt uncomfortable with revealing their country of origin. It broke America's heart and in his more open moments, he admitted to Lithuania that sometimes he genuinely wished he could go back into isolation so everyone would leave him and his people the hell alone. He knew it was a stupid desire that would never work, so he never even considered acting on it, but the thoughts were there in his darkest moments.

Thinking of his friend brought a small, sad smile to Lithuania's face. "It's a beautiful country. My friend is from there. I spent a few years there myself..." He faltered, cheeks reddening. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your shopping."

"You didn't." the man reassured him. "I was merely on my way to the forest. To be honest, you're the first long conversation I've had in months."

Lithuania's heart twinged with sympathy. He did not ask why the man was there or why he could not return to his home. It was not his business. "Poland is certainly different than America. It must be quite the change to adjust to."

"Indeed. I can't wait to get home." the man admitted.

He shifted, clasping his hands loosely behind his back. The stance nagged at Lithuania. Before he could speak, Poland squealed.

"They come in  _purple_ _!_ "

Lithuania sighed. "I have to go before my friend spends all his money. Good luck in the future."

"Same to you." the man said.

Lithuania smiled and hurried after Poland. In the short span of time it took to reach him, Poland managed to drag Austria into the shop with him. The poor nation looked hopelessly overwhelmed as Poland shoved things into his face, nearly knocking his glasses off. Prussia did not assist his friend, instead standing in the corner and cackling at the look on Austria's face.

Lithuania sighed and went to rescue Austria, because apparently someone had to be the adult here. It might as well be him, as always.

XXXXXXX

_I'll give France all my cookbooks. My car collection will go to Germany. He always asks to see them when he comes over… If he doesn't want them they can go to auction with the money going to charity. I should give Japan my console and games. Can he play them at his house? Maybe he'll come over to mine…_

_Who should I give my house to? Mattie should probably get it. If he becomes the personification of the United States along with Canada he'll need a place in America. Will he want it though? There will be so many memories there… No, I **need**  to give the house to him. Tony and Uni and the others can't get the deed. They shouldn't have to move when I'm gone. But will Tony stay if I'm… not around anymore? He might go back to his planet._

_I never got to say goodbye to him._

America lay in his sleeping bag and stared at the ceiling of the airship as these thoughts bounced around his mind. Everyone was asleep except him, Penny, and Sterlyn. The pilot claimed he did not sleep anyway so he might as well keep flying, but America knew he would need a break eventually. That break would come when they reached the small village of Woodland. Truly, Vale had the most imaginative names when it came to towns. Speaking of names, Woodland's was familiar, and not in a "one of Vale's towns" way. Try as he might, he could not figure out the connection.

His thoughts turned back to his belongings.  _Uni should probably go with England. He's one_ _of the people_ _she trusts other than Mattie,_ _and one of the few_ _that can see her. He can introduce her to his magical friends so she won't be lonely._ America closed his eyes and sighed.  _I really should write this down._

" _I'll help you remember."_  Vale promised softly.

America swallowed roughly.  _Thanks. But I still need to write it. I don't have a will. Never needed one. Maybe we'll find a lawyer in Woodland. It might not be as valid as a will made on Earth but considering the circumstances I_ _t_ _hink they'll accept it._

" _Have you accepted it?"_  Vale asked quietly.

America's stomach twisted and his teeth clenched.  _No._

He sat up and carefully maneuvered past Canada and England, stepping into the open aisle between the lines of sleeping bags in the cargo hold. Gleaming green eyes shone from the darkness and America put a finger to his lips to keep Penny quiet. She nodded once and silently followed him out of the cargo hold and into the cockpit.

Sterlyn cast a disinterested glance back at them before turning back to the dark sky. "Need the bathroom, kid? I hope you're not here for my lovely company."

America's lips twitched. "No to both. I mean, I do enjoy your grumpy company but I'll leave you to your flying this time. Do you have any paper in here?"

"There's some in that console." Sterlyn said, nodding towards it.

Smiling in thanks, America opened the drawer and paused. Inside were blank sheets as promised but on top of those sheets were drawings. America picked one up and recognized it as a distant but detailed sketch of the City of Mistral.

"You draw?" he asked.

"Sometimes. I have to do something when waiting around for shipments."

"They're beautiful." America murmured, flipping through the landscapes and carefully-sketched portraits of random people.

Penny peered over his shoulder. "I agree. These drawings appear to be accurate to the images in my databanks."

"Meh. They're nothing special." Sterlyn said dismissively.

America hummed in disagreement. "You should show these to Feliciano. He likes art too."

Sterlyn frowned. "Feliciano? No thanks. He's too excitable. And obsessed with pasta."

"He isn't  _that_  bad." America chided.

Sterlyn stared at him, eyes hidden by his visor but feelings clear. America rolled his eyed and set the drawings aside. He picked up a couple empty sheets and shut the drawer. Upon retrieving a pen, he paused, glancing at Penny. She stared back at him.

"Alfred F. Jones's body language indicates he wants some 'space.'" she stated. "I shall sit with Sterlyn-No-Last-Name-Given."

"And you'll never learn it!" Sterlyn claimed.

Penny did not respond. She sat next to Sterlyn, and the pilot did not seem to mind. America retreated to the other side of the cockpit and settled in a chair by the door. He stared at the plain white pages, pen in hand, and his mind went blank.

" _Cookbooks to France."_  Vale said quietly.  _"Cars to Germany or auction if he does not want them. Video games and console to Japan. House to Canada. Uni to England."_

America carefully wrote it all down. Despite his best efforts, some of the words came out wobbly. He gritted his teeth but could not waste the paper by throwing it out and starting over. Still, the stupid imperfections made his eyes burn. He hastily pushed the paper away. He couldn't get tear-stains on it and let his brothers know he cried while writing this. It wasn't the official version but… Well.

What if he died before he could do anything else?

America dragged a hand down his face. His fingers remained dry, as did his cheeks. The tightness in his throat did not fade.

"Sterlyn, what are the functions of each of these mechanisms?" Penny asked abruptly.

Rather than get annoyed with her, Sterlyn took the question in stride. "Well, this is the starter. This lever here controls the cargo ramp. And this one is the emergency autopilot..."

America listened idly, noting the layout himself in case he needed to pilot the ship. He should ask Sterlyn for a chance. He always wanted to fly and airship.

The soft patter of approaching footsteps reached his ears. Yang appeared in the doorway, hair in disarray, mid-yawn, and stumbling like one of the undead. She spotted America and froze, eyes bugging out. America hastily wiped at his eyes and smiled.

"Hey. Bathroom?"

Yang's eyes darted about, seeking an escape. "No. I'm… sleepwalking."

America snorted. "You're too coherent for a sleepwalker. And don't steal your sister's excuses." Yang shifted uncomfortably and his smile faded. "Please sit. We should talk."

She approached far too meekly and sat, avoiding his gaze. She peeked at his papers and looked away sharply. "Is that…?"

"A list of who to give what if I kick the bucket? Yeah." America said blandly.

Yang winced.

"Sorry. That was blunt." America apologized.

"Hey, I'd be hypocritical if I wasn't fine with bluntness." Yang claimed.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" America asked levelly.

Yang flinched. Again, she avoided looking at him. "You know why. I nearly killed you."

America heard a menacing click. He looked at Penny and shook his head. She frowned at him before glaring at Yang. The Huntress did not seem to care, keeping her back to the potentially-homicidal robot.

"I almost killed you." she repeated.

"You were under the influence of Emerald's Semblance." America said calmly, both to inform Penny and remind Yang.

"I beat you to a pulp." Yang said.

"Because you thought I was Neo." America retorted.

Yang gritted her teeth. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" America asked.

Yang dragged a hand through her hair, tearing out a few strands. "Stop— Be  _angry_  at me,  _dammit_ _!_ " Her eyes flashed red.

America did not recoil. "Why?" he asked.

Yang's eyes dulled to a faint blue. "I— I— You're supposed to be  _angry_  with me." she said, voice cracking.

"But why?" America repeated. "You're my friend. What happened wasn't your fault. Why would I be mad at your for something you didn't mean to do?"

Yang's eyes filled with tears.

"Hey, don't cry." America pleaded. "Otherwise I'll have to sic Ruby on you."

Yang snorted and wiped at her eyes. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It should." America said solemnly. "She will murder you to death with affection and hugs."

Yang snickered. "You say that like she already doesn't."

"True." America admitted. He grinned wickedly. "How about this: Since you never revoked my honorary sibling status, I will pester you until you forgive yourself."

Yang looked torn between laughter and horror. "You wouldn't."

America smiled and poked her in the side of the head. He got two more free pokes in before she scowled and jabbed him in the side. America smirked and let his finger hover an inch from her arm.

"I'm not touching you." he said blandly.

"Oh. My. Gods." Yang groaned, cracking up. "What are you doing?"

"Don't laugh." America said seriously. "This is only the first stage in my evil plan of sibling annoyingness."

"Oh really?" Yang chuckled. "What are you going to do? Find a snake and put it in my room?"

"Nah. I'll find kittens. And puppies." America said, straight-faced. "You will be overwhelmed by the adorableness and have to be happy."

"How evil." Yang said, struggling not to giggle. Her eyes glinted. "That would be a catastrophe."

"But it would leave you feline fine." America countered.

"Are you saying it'll change my cattitude?" Yang cackled.

"Stop it." Sterlyn groaned.

"Sterlyn is having similar reactions to Jaune Arc." Penny reported.

America covered his mouth so his laughter would not wake everyone. Yang did the same, face beet red from the strain.

Sterlyn muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath. "Are you sure you two aren't related?" he demanded of the two blondes.

"Well, we both have blonde hair and sometimes-blue eyes." America said innocently.

"And we love punching things. We must be long-lost relatives!" Yang said gleefully.

Sterlyn reached under his visor, likely to massage his forehead. "I will turn this ship around."

America and Yang looked at each other, then at the pilot. "Sorry, Dad." they chorused.

Sterlyn sighed but America could see his smile. He glanced at Penny and beckoned her over. "Since we're both up we might as well continue with your lessons."

The robotic girl perked up. "What is the subject?"

America exchanged a glance with Yang, mirroring her grin. "The art of Puns."

Sterlyn planted his head against the controls. "Someone kill me." He begged whatever deities were listening. They ignored his prayer.

"If someone attempted to murder Sterlyn-No-Last-Name-Given I would terminate them." Penny said instantly.

America paused, staring at her. Slowly, a huge smile stretched across his face.

"Why are you smiling?" Penny inquired.

"Puns." America claimed.

Penny accepted his answer and leaned forward. She almost appeared…  _eager_. America's heart soared. "Shall we begin this lesson?"

"We shall." America said primly. "You'll be driving Jaune up the wall in no time."

"Is that a figure of speech?" Penny questioned.

America's smile widened in pride. "Yes. It is."

XXXXXXX

"Can we  _please_  return to base?" Austria begged.

He was ignored by Prussia and Poland, who had somehow gotten into an argument whether horses or birds were better. Lithuania stood to the side with a skull-splitting headache, wondering how a short double-check in the woods had become a short 'vacation'. He had finally herded Poland out of town and back into the forest the next morning, thankfully sans bags of clothes. Now Poland and Prussia apparently had nothing better to do than bicker, with all thoughts of their purpose here— to look for nonexistent Grimm— forgotten.

A vein in Lithuania's forehead twitched and he rubbed it, wondering how Germany managed to handle all of the chaos at once and remain sane. He was close to his wits' end and Austria was already there. If the elegant man were more Switzerland-like, he'd be firing his rifle right now. As it was, he looked sorely tempted.

"Our plane leaves in a few hours." he reminded them irritably. "I am not spending another night in that hotel." Again, Prussia and Poland ignored him. His scowl deepened.

"We'll make it." Lithuania reassured him. Louder, he continued. "We may as well go. There are no Grimm here."

Poland instantly discontinued his argument with Prussia and turned on him. "We can't leave! There might still be some Grimm creeping around."

"We've been searching for hours and found nothing." Lithuania pointed out patiently. "Looking like this is inefficient. We should wait for the drones or Tony to spot something."

Poland pouted. "But..."

"Poland, it's fine." Lithuania said tiredly. "There are no more Grimm. We killed them all."

_Snap_.

The sound of a breaking branch was like a gunshot. Lithuania froze, and belatedly realized how quiet it was. No birds sand. No insects buzzed. Even the wind had stopped. He backed up until he was back to back with Austria while Poland did the same with Prussia.

"You were saying?" Poland said shakily.

Lithuania swallowed. "It might just be an animal—"

_Snap._

_Snap._

_Snap._

_**Crunch**._

A large black figure emerged from between the trees. Red eyes landed on the nations and Lithuania gaped at the  _huge_ tiger Grimm standing before them. It stood twice as tall as a man and was four times as long from shoulders to flicking tail-tip. Sharp white claws decorated its large paws, each of which was larger than Lithuania's head. The Tiger eyed the nations coldly, and its lips pulled back into a slow malicious snarl.

"Prussia. What kind of Grimm is that?" Poland asked quietly.

"I don't know." Prussia said tightly.

Lithuania swallowed. "Send an alarm."

Prussia did not move, both hands resting firmly on Rapunzel's rifle form. Austria slowly reached into his pocket and pressed the power button five times in quick succession, immediately sending an alarm out to the Taskforce along with their location. Lithuania knew the others would not arrive quickly enough. The four were on their own.

The Tiger's muscles bunched and it sprang. Lithuania's thoughts slowed down and sped up all at once as he slowly comprehended that the hulking Grimm would easily clear the fifteen meters between them.

The four nations scattered but the Tiger  _twisted_  in midair, redirecting the trajectory of its pounce. Heavy paws slammed into Lithuania's chest, taking his breath away as he fell onto his back. His ribs  _cracked_  beneath the weight of the Grimm and he could only grunt breathlessly as his bones strained beneath the pressure.

A bullet hit the side of the Tiger's head and although its ears flicked, it gave no other reaction. Jaws parted, revealing teeth as long as Lithuania's forearm and he yanked his gun free, firing into the Tiger's maw. Its jaws snapped shut in annoyance more than pain.

Its tail twitched and Prussia went flying, leaving broken branches in his wake. The Grimm raised its paw, allowing Lithuania a second to gasp for air, and brought it down with the force of a speeding truck. Lithuania could not hold back a breathless scream as his Aura flickered dangerously. That was two hits. It was only two hits—

The paw landed on his upper chest, claws pressing on his throat and he gurgled, wriggling like a pinned fly.

"Liet!"

Poland rushed in and furiously hit the Tiger with his gun but it batted him into the trees, focused on Lithuania. Why only him? Why? Yes, he was annoyed earlier and scared now but why why why—?

Bullets bounced off the Tiger's thick hide and Austria ducked under the Tiger's swipe. The nation said nothing, but Lithuania could see the hysteria in his eyes as he yanked something from his belt. Lithuania saw a glint of metal before Austria stabbed the Tiger in the shoulder. It roared, rattling the tree branches themselves, and snapped at Austria. Austria dodged the first bite but staggered, ankle twisting on a protruding root. The Tiger's jaws closed around his shoulder.

Violet eyes widened in pain but Austria made no sound as the Tiger lifted him. Lithuania could do nothing but watch as the Grimm shook Austria like a rag doll, its teeth embedded in his shoulder. Violet light flared, crimson blood blossomed, and it was only then that Austria's numb shock abandoned him. He screamed, pain overwhelming his senses and he pushed weakly at the Tiger's head, oblivious to the dagger still in his grasp.

Prussia appeared like a vengeful angel and stabbed at the Tiger's head with his glaive. The blow glanced off the Grimm's mask and it jerked its head, pulling Austria's limp body up. Prussia froze, yanking his glaive back in order to avoid stabbing his friend. Austria stirred weakly, and Lithuania saw a brief glimpse of a glazed violet eye.

Poland fell from the treetops and landed on the Tiger's back. He raised a rock over his head, tears streaming down his cheeks, and brought it down, each hit punctuated by a scream. "Let. Them. Go. You.  _Stupid. Cat!_ "

He may as well be a fly buzzing around the Tiger's head. The Grimm's ears flattened and it rose onto its back legs. Lithuania did not have time to breathe before the paws came back down. Pain exploded in his chest and he heard something  _snap_. A moment later, he  _felt_  it. His scream startled even the Grimm and it paused.

Light flickered in Lithuania's vision.

The Grimm howled and staggered, black gunk leaking from its destroyed eye. Another shot of light grazed its ear, leaving a smoking hole behind, and its paw slammed down beside Lithuania's head as it turned in a circle, seeking the source. Yet even then, it refused to release its prey. Blood splattered onto Lithuania and Austria weakly raised his head. For a moment, violet eyes met Lithuania's green, and Austria shuddered once. He raised his free arm— knife still in hand— and  _stabbed_.

The blade sank into the Tiger's other eye, blinding it. Its jaws parted in a hair-raising roar and Austria fell to the dirt and his own blood. The Tiger's paws nearly grazed his head as it staggered, shrieking. Prussia ran at the beast, murder in his blood-red eyes, and as its head turned towards the sound of footsteps, he twisted his weapon into a sword. Prussia's feet left the earth, his jump carrying him over the Tiger's desperate swipe, and his sword plunged right into the Tiger's already-destroyed eye, all the way to the hilt.

The Grimm gave a final, horrific death-scream, one that Lithuania knew would haunt him for the rest of his existence. Then it slumped, fading into black smoke that was soon dissolved by the wind.

Poland pushed himself off the ground and crawled to Lithuania. "Liet?"

Lithuania looked at his friend's tear-stained face and forced himself to breathe. "I'm fine. Austria?"

Prussia was already at his side, positioned in a way that let Lithuania see the deep puncture wounds on Austria's shoulder. Prussia tore off his coat and pressed it to the injury. Austria flinched and weakly gripped Prussia's sleeve. Violet eyes— so dark against his colorless face— desperately sought the other.

"Did we win?" Austria mumbled, barely audible.

"Yes." Prussia croaked, and Lithuania pretended not to hear the tremor in his voice. The smile he gave was so forced that Lithuania has to look away. "You were awesome. You blinded it."

Austria's lips twitched. "Your shot gave me the idea."

Prussia's smile vanished. "That wasn't me."

A cold feeling settled in Lithuania's gut.

_**Crunch.** _

Poland sprang to his feet, fumbling with his gun, and Prussia did the same, stepping in between the injured nations and the sound with Rapunzel in its rifle form. A hooded figure emerged from behind a tree, hands raised and lower face covered by a piece of cloth over his mouth.

"I mean you no harm." a male voice said, but Lithuania barely registered the words.

It was hard to when he spotted the strange weapon on the man's back. Lithuania's skin went cold and he gripped Poland's pant leg, silently begging him not to say anything. The nations were injured or tired from the battle. The man— undoubtedly a soldier of Atlas— was fresh and energized, without the slightest sign of fatigue. Add a possible Semblance into the equation and Lithuania did not want to antagonize him. Poland must have realized the same, for he remained quiet. Prussia failed to get the message. He pointed his rifle at the man's chest.

"You're from Atlas." he snarled.

The man paused. "...You aren't."

Lithuania slowly understood the man saw Prussia's weapon and assumed he was from Remnant. It was too late to pretend. Lithuania struggled to rise and nearly blacked out. When his vision cleared, the soldier and nations were still in the same positions. Except not. The soldier's weapon was pointed at Prussia's head.

"Damn it." the man breathed. "You're one of those Earth nations, aren't you? That's how you have one of our weapons."

Red eyes flashed. " _Your_  weapon? My weapon was  _never_  yours, Atlesian. It was created and given to me by a close friend."

The man said nothing, but Lithuania saw the brief flicker of recognition in his eyes. He had no doubt the soldier knew the weapon's creator was America. The soldier's presence here left his involvement in the twins' abduction ambiguous; his knowledge about America crushed that ambiguity into dust. Again, Lithuania tried to rise, only for Poland to block his vision.

"Stay down, Liet." Poland whispered, keeping his front towards the soldier.

The man glanced between Poland's feet at Lithuania. His eyes widened with shock before a stoic mask slammed over his features. "You're  _all_  nations."

Lithuania could not identify the emotion in his voice. He was not certain he wanted to. Movement caught his eye but he resisted the urge to look, keeping his gaze locked with the soldier's.

Leaves rustled, and the Atlas soldier turned to find Germany's rifle in his face. The tall blond nation glared at the soldier expressionlessly and spoke not a word, his threat clear. Before the soldier could consider risking that threat, the rest of the Taskforce emerged from the woods, their every weapon pointed at the soldier.

Lithuania almost smiled. Aura or not, the man could not withstand that much firepower. He realized it as well, for he went still and wisely raised his hands. Germany yanked the soldier's weapon from him and pulled the hood and cloth from his head, exposing his face.

Lithuania recognized him immediately. It was the supposed "American" he ran into in town. His pain faded as anger burned in his chest and he finally succeeded in rising to his feet. Poland grabbed hiss arm but he shook him off, stalking forward. Lithuania breathed heavily, chest catching as it agitated his ribs, but he refused to fall. At first he could not understand his own anger, but then a memory came to his mind.

_America. Stoic, quiet, distant._

_America. Terse, stiff, trembling._

_America. Nervous, uncomfortable, wary._

_America with harsh, bitter laughter that did not suit him at all._

_"Yeah. Being **abducted** ,  **tortured** , and  **experimented on**  left me a bit twitchy."_

"You..." Lithuania breathed, unsure if his voice was low from lack of breath or fury. The Atlas soldier looked at him. "How dare you pretend to be one of his people  _after what you did to him!_ "

The soldier said nothing. His expression did not change. He showed no remorse.

Not even the slightest hint.

Lithuania did not realize he was throwing a punch until Poland grabbed his arm again, stopping him from slugging the soldier. Fury boiled Lithuania's blood and he pulled his arm free of Poland's grasp. Blackness danced across his vision and he found himself on his knees, blinking at droplets of blood.

"Liet. Be  _careful_." Poland fretted.

Lithuania blinked absently down at himself. There was a lot more red on his clothes than he recalled. He ignored that and looked past Poland, to the soldier as he was cuffed by a grim-faced Denmark. Switzerland hovered close by during the arrest, rifle pointed at the man's head.

Lithuania belatedly noticed Hungary was with Austria, gripping one of his hands in both of hers as she murmured softly to him. Austria breathed heavily, forehead covered with sweat and jaw quivering in pain. Slowly, his expression relaxed, and Lithuania saw Austria's hand go limp. He forced his gaze away, but could not deafen himself to Hungary's soft sob. As Korea and Finland rushed over to Austria with a stretcher, Germany approached Poland and Lithuania.

"Poland. Is the Grimm dead?" Germany asked quietly.

"Yeah. Prussia got it." Poland mumbled distractedly.

He helped Lithuania lay down— When had he fallen to the forest floor?— and brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Was he crying? Lithuania wasn't sure. Night must be falling because everything was going dark. Were his eyes open or closed?

"It's okay, Liet." Poland whispered. "You can sleep now. We're okay."

Lithuania opened his mouth to tell Poland that he was not that injured.

He did not get the chance.


	14. No Such Thing As Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet keeps going out and I don't trust it so I'm updating a tad early. This one's pretty long because I combined two chapters (again). *shrugs*

America did not sleep the night after he talked with Yang. Or the night after that. Or the night after that. It was becoming apparent that he had developed insomnia, and instead of wasting time trying and failing to sleep, America spent his nights with Sterlyn and Penny. The pilot did not mind as long as they did not distract him or ask him too many questions. That did not stop America from pestering him and toeing the line as much as possible.

"Sooo do you want to tell me any nice secrets about yourself?" he asked the pilot as the sun started creeping over the horizon.

"No." Sterlyn grunted.

"What about a last name?" America asked with faked hopefulness.

"No." Sterlyn growled.

America chuckled and left him alone. He watched the sun rise, turning the sky from dark blue to pink to gold. At least his insomnia was good for a couple things. Good company and beautiful sights, no matter how brief they were. He watched the sun creep higher and closed his eyes, thinking of sunrises over an endless blue ocean.

"Alfred, you should go shower. Based on previously cataloged data, Winter will wake to shower in ten minutes." Penny said, interrupting the moment.

America did not mind. "Okay. How about you try to wake Mattie without me today? And then you can go talk to whoever you want."

Penny's eyes gleamed. "I accept this challenge."

She rose and skipped out, bouncing as she went. Ruby had taught her how to sashay the day before, caught in the boredom many of the travelers were experiencing, and like many things, Penny caught onto it instantly. If America had to guess, he'd say she would pick up dancing easily as well. That was a benefit of having an evolving learning algorithm, supposedly.

" _She's adorable."_  Vale admitted as Penny skipped away.

America chuckled and silently agreed. After seeing Penny's interactions with Sterlyn, he had gotten the brilliant idea to encourage Penny to spend more time with the others. Sometimes Penny required more than a subtle nudge, but America found if he worded it in a way that made it like a challenge, Penny was much more eager to go out and talk to someone that was not him. Again, evolving learning algorithm.

Speaking of challenges, waking Canada was harder here than normal because there was no mattress to flip on top of him. Instead America and Penny had to take more drastic measures to wake his twin, which usually included lifting him a few feet into the air and dropping him. America pictured Penny lifting a snoring Canada over her head like a weird trophy and snorted.

He hefted his bag onto his shoulder and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Hopefully everyone had learned what was not proper bathroom etiquette from Jaune. If they didn't and busted this door, America was sure Sterlyn would go nuclear. Few things were more terrifying than the pilot when someone hurt his 'baby', as poor Italy learned when he accidentally snapped the antenna off a radio.

America chuckled lightly and stepped into the shower. Another benefit of not sleeping was the ability to sneak into the bathroom and get changed without anyone noticing. The rest of their team usually split into groups to change, and none caught on to America's secrecy yet. He was an early riser and that became his perfect cover.

Sure, a few people knew about his scars, but not all of them. America was not sure he wanted to find out how Russia would react. Would he laugh? And Japan… it was a rare occurrence— America only remembered a couple instances himself— but Japan got twitchy when it came to back wounds. As much as America wanted to know why, he never asked. There were just some things friends did not bring up.

America shook his head and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower. He dried off and pulled his clothes on, opening the bathroom door. Russia's tall frame filled the doorway and America yelped, jumping back. Russia smirked and America scowled, smacking him irritably on the arm.

" _Damn it, Russia!_  Don't give me a heart attack."

"If my appearance alone gave you a heart attack I would be concerned." Russia claimed cheerfully.

America rolled his eyes. "Yeah,  _sure_. Could you move, please?"

Russia shook his head. "No. I must speak with you."

America glanced at their surroundings and raised an eyebrow. "What is with people and wanting to talk with me in bathrooms? I know showers let people contemplate the universe but come  _on—_ "

Russia put a hand on America's shoulder and leaned over until they were eye to eye. His piercing eyes scrutinized America, who stiffened but held the larger nation's gaze. Russia's head tipped questioningly. On a nicer person, the pose may be reminiscent of a curious puppy. On Russia, it was more comparable to a wolf spotting prey. America's lips twisted into an instinctive snarl and Russia chuckled.

"You are always so defensive. Did our heart to heart mean nothing?"

"I have a problem with being touched." America said tersely, shoving Russia's hand off his shoulder.

He tried to push past Russia but the larger nation 'casually' blocked the opening with his arm. America halted, breathing evenly as he struggled to stop his heart from crawling into his throat. This was Russia. There was no way in hell he was letting  _Russia_  intimidate him. He wasn't  _that_  weak.

"You are hiding something." Russia stated.

"Oh  _really_?" America replied snidely. "And here I thought I was the most transparent nation in the world, sharing my every thought with every person I meet—"

Russia frowned at him. His hand shifted and America flinched, tucking his chin before Russia could touch his neck.

"You flinch so often." Russia noted.

America grabbed his hand and yanked it away from his skin. "Well excuse me for  _having a problem with people touching me._ "

Russia grabbed his arm and he froze. "You flinched again." the larger nation said. "That would be a problem if an enemy grabbed you."

"If an enemy grabs me, I'll  _burn them._ " America spat. "Keep it up and I'll show you how."

Russia shoved him. America's ankles hit the edge of the shower and tipped back, barely keeping his balance. The door clicked shut and Russia grabbed his collar before he could fall. A hand clamped over his mouth. America froze in place but kicked Russia in the shin, annoyed growl muffled by the large nation's palm.

" _What the hell?!_ _"_  Vale gaped.

"You flinched again." Russia said calmly. "You need to stop that."

America's insults were rendered unintelligible by his hand. He angrily jabbed at the Russian's stomach, and was gratified to see him wince. Russia frowned and yanked America around, pinning his arms to his sides as his other palm remained over America's mouth. America stilled, heart pounding as his skin went cold and  _the soldier's breath brushed his ear—_

" _ **Alfred**_ _!"_  Vale shouted.

America smelled burning cloth. He focused to see flickers of orange in front of his eyes and slowly comprehended that Russia's coat was on fire.

"Oh  _shit!_ " America gasped.

He shoved Russia into the shower and turned it on, dousing the flames and drenching both himself and Russia. Russia stared at his smoking sleeve with a distantly bemused expression and America growled, yanking his sleeve up to check his arm for burns. Luckily Russia's Aura held out and he appeared to be fine. Not a single burn marked his skin.

"I'm so sorry." America apologized. "I lost control—"

Russia grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall. America's breath left his body in a whoosh but he kept his hands down, careful not to touch Russia and risk burning him again. Russia held him pinned to the wall, posture stooped so they were eye to eye once more, and his lips pulled down.

"Do you think your enemies will show you mercy if you cry?" he asked.

America could not look at him. Although he knew he could, he could not shove Russia away. He shut his prickling eyes and  _watched remorselessly as his friends panicked as his flames devoured Kuroyuri—_

"I know they won't." he choked. " _Let go_."

" _Stop_  flinching." Russia demanded and grabbed his shoulder.

The unhealed scars burned and America clenched his teeth so he wouldn't scream. He resisted the instinct that begged him to slam Russia through the wall like he had thrown England into a tree—

Russia scowled at him. "Stop.  _Flinching_."

"I  _can't_." America hissed.

Russia released him. America fell to the base of the shower, landing in the puddle of water at the bottom, and Russia stared down at him, expression unreadable. He reached out and America flinched, but did not try to escape as Russia grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"When you were amnesiac, you had a habit of bracing for injury rather than fight those that sought to harm you." Russia said calmly. "I thought you would discard such pathetic instincts with your regained memory, but apparently that is not the case. I find that weakness to be  _problematic_. In battle, you could face capture due to such hesitation." His hand squeezed America's jaw. "So until you stop flinching, we will continue this game, da?"

America glared at him as water dripped from his hair. Russia chuckled and turned off the shower. He stepped out and yanked America with him, holding him by the arm to stop him from falling over. America pulled his arm free and rubbed it, glowering.

"I guess our 'heart to heart' meant nothing." he whispered.

"Oh, no. I meant what I said about not liking you like this." Russia said pleasantly. "But I'm bored and have nothing better to do, so I may as well help you recover."

America's skin crawled.

" _ **This**_ _is his definition of 'helping'?"_ Vale asked faintly.

Russia grabbed America's hand and he jerked it free of his grasp, backing away—  _Don't spark don't spark_ _ **don't spark.**_

Russia sighed. "Though I admit, part of what I claimed earlier is a lie. I  _am_  disappointed you have become so  _weak_."

America's hands fell to his sides and he stared at Russia, eyes wide. He did not move as Russia once again reached for him, hand brushing his shoulder—

The door slammed open. Winter walked in, hair noticeably out of its usual bun and mussed from sleep, but her gaze was sharp and alert. America took a moment to note her hand was on her weapon before she halted just inside the doorway. Her glare rested on Russia.

"I heard noise." she said stiffly. "Is everything alright?" Her tone suggested the question was a mere formality and just how much she had heard and America's stomach sank into his shoes.

"Alfred fell into the shower and dragged me with him." Russia claimed cheerfully. "He is so clumsy sometimes."

He slung an arm around America's shoulders, smiling sweetly at him, and the twin's walls slammed into place. On instinct, a laugh bubbled free of America's throat.

"Yeah, I totally tripped, dude." he said, scratching at his ear sheepishly. "Don't tell Penny, okay? She already thinks I'm a walking disaster."

"You  _are_  a walking disaster." Winter said dryly. Her stare never left Russia, and her eyes burned like icy flames. "Ivan, could you please retrieve new attire for Alfred?"

Russia's eyes narrowed, and America prayed that the two would not start a fight in the tiny bathroom of their tiny airship which was thousands of feet above the ground. Thankfully, Russia nodded and exited the bathroom without argument. Before he left, he cast one final, indecipherable look at America. America avoided his eyes. The door clicked shut and he smiled, because what else could he do?

"We have to stop meeting like this." he joked, risking a glance upward.

Winter's glower silenced him. "Did you apologize to the shower for falling into it?" she asked coldly.

America winced at her obvious double-meaning. "You've got it wrong—"

"I'm not stupid, Alfred." Winter interrupted flatly. "Unless the shower grew hands, it did not leave you with bruises."

America touched his neck and winced. A peek at his shoulder revealed undeniable red welts. Good to know his Aura was being useless again. What was that Penny said about Aura and trauma? He hastily covered the welts up.

"Russia was just being Russia." he claimed. "He's trying to help me in his own weird way."

"He's helping by  _assaulting_  you?" Winter asked coolly.

"It's not an assault. I keep flinching so he grabbed me to keep me still." America explained. "He wants me to stop."

"And he intends to make you stop by  _hitting you_?" Winter hissed.

"It's  _Russia_." America said, as if that explained everything. It kind of did. "He's like a kid who shakes a fish bag because it's not moving." He sighed and decided to be blunt. Look, stop acting like I'm being bullied. I'm not a schoolkid. Russia just shoved me around a bit today, and  _only_  today. He got his message across and I doubt he'll do it again—"

A glyph appeared on the floor and a glowing clawed paw rose out. America jumped and Winter frowned, glaring at the glyph until it diminished. She exhaled slowly and pierced America with a glower.

" _Stay_." she commanded.

America watched her leave. He stayed in the bathroom, unsure what else he would do.

_Why is she making such a big deal out of this?_  He wondered.  _I mean, I guess she's not used to Russia…_

" _ **I'm**_ _not used to Russia. I thought he liked you."_ Vale said shakily.

_He does,_ America reassured her. _He just has a… different way of viewing things._ His shoulders slumped.  _He may be harsh and acting out of boredom but he's right. I need to get over my touch issues before it becomes a problem._

The bathroom door opened and Canada rushed in. America had a moment to notice the frost on his twin's shoulders before he was enveloped in a hug. America twitched but relaxed, laying his head on Canada's shoulder. He noticed Winter and Weiss in the doorway and chuckled awkwardly.

"Are we having a super-secret sibling meeting? Cool. We should go get Arthur and Jett, Yang and Ruby, and the Italy brothers and—"

"Stop joking." Winter snapped and America clamped his jaw shut.

Canada's arms tightened around him. "God  _dammit_ , Alfred." he whispered.

America swallowed uncomfortably. "You just swore, bro. What's up?"

Canada's jaw quivered and America could not say whether his brother was about to cry or fall into a fit of rage. Canada pulled back and put his hands on America's shoulders. America's breath hitched and he was not quick enough to stop his brother from pulling his collar aside, revealing the red marks on his skin— and part of his scars. Weiss's soft gasp went unacknowledged.

"Has this happened before?" Canada demanded.

"Has what happened?" America asked evasively.

Canada glared at him, eyes flashing a glowing violet. "Has Russia attacked you before?"

" _No_." America emphasized. "It just happened today." He huffed. "Jeez, what's your problem? It's not that big of a deal—"

Canada raised his hand. America recoiled, tucking his chin and jerking his hands up to shield his face. He lowered them but it was already too late. Canada's expression crumpled and America's insides twisted with guilt.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to flinch." he babbled. "I know you won't hurt me I didn't mean to imply I thought you would I just—"

" _That's_  why you think I'm upset?" Canada whispered.

America faltered. "I… I don't…" He lowered his head and clasped his hands around his elbows. "It's not a big deal."

Canada stared at him, skin ashen and mouth clamped tightly shut.

Unable to look at him, America looked to Weiss and Winter for support. "I don't understand what's wrong?" he confessed, ashamed by his ignorance.

Winter's expression grew pinched.

Weiss leaned against the sink, arms crossed stiffly over her chest, with his spare clothes dangling from one hand. "...Our father used to hit us."

America couldn't find his voice. He glanced uncertainly at Winter and had to look away. He chuckled awkwardly because there was nothing else he could do. "Dudes, you're totally overblowing this. I—" He realized he was making everything about him again. "Oh, shoot. Wow, that was insensitive of me. I'm not saying your stuff is overblown. I'm sorry that happened. I'm glad you're away from him. B-But this is obviously different. Russia only grabbed me and shoved me a few times and you're acting like it's this awful thing—"

"It  _is_  awful." Canada stated. "Alfred,  _why_  would Russia's actions ever be okay?"

"He's trying to help me." America reminded them.

"Oh, so your enemies are trying to help you when they smack you around?" Canada asked sharply.

"That's different." America said, but nausea settled in his stomach.

Canada stared at him, and America wondered if that was disappointment in his eyes. "Alfred, you have to  _fight back_ when people attack you.  _Even if it's an ally._ "

_But I **don't want to hurt my allies**._

America studied his feet, cheeks reddening. "I don't need you to tell me that." he said tersely. "I'm not a child."

Canada silently shook his head.

" _I don't think he agrees with you."_  Vale murmured.

America's hands trembled. He cleared his throat and kept on smiling. "Nice talk. Now can you shoo so I can change before Penny sees me?"

Canada scowled. "America—"

America grabbed the clothes from Weiss and shoved the three out the door. "'Kay-thanks-bye."

He slammed the door shut and locked it before sinking to the floor, carelessly dropping the pile of clothes into his lap. He gripped his hair, breathing heavily.

"I am fine." he whispered. "I'm fine. I'm  _fine_."

" _No you are not."_  Vale informed him.

America gritted his teeth and forced himself to smile. He couldn't let himself crumble. He had to be fine. Sure, the others did not see things the same way as him but that was okay. He was fine. He had to be fine. The others were overreacting. Russia did not do anything unusual or wrong. America was the one with problems. America was the one that needed to get over himself and change. He was already worrying his family too much, so he didn't need to add to their burdens.

Besides, Russia was right. He needed to stop acting like a nervous fawn and grow a backbone, at least when his friends touched him. They would not hurt him— Well, Russia kind of did but that was to show America how stupid he was being. America should be glad someone wasn't treating him like glass. He couldn't afford to be a liability during battle. Russia was just trying to help him.

Maybe America should let him.

XXXXXXX

Weiss wished the airship could provide a private area other than the bathroom. She needed space to think and the closest thing she could get was with Sterlyn. Yet even then, there was more than just the pilot there. Her sister and Matthew lingered as well, all caught in the same stunned stupor.

When Ivan came to request new clothes for Alfred, she saw nothing amiss. When Winter appeared a moment later and crisply requested the clothes from him while saying Penny's presence was not required, nothing seemed wrong. When Weiss grew irritated with the cold looks Ivan and Winter shot each other and took the clothes herself, nothing alarmed her. And when Winter said Alfred wanted to ask Matthew something, Weiss still remained oblivious.

They went to the bathroom— herself with the clothes, Winter murmuring softly, and Matthew drastically paling— and yet even as she listened and slowly realized what happened, the last thing she expected was for Alfred to have bruises that could only come from human hands. Seeing them brought up memories she wanted to forget, and Alfred's  _complete obliviousness_  as to why the contusions were so upsetting made her feel ill. Not only that, but those  _scars_  across his shoulders...

Even worse, rather than worry for him, she found herself sitting in a chair in the cockpit, considering her father. Weiss absently touched her cheek, feeling the ghostly sensations of many harsh slaps. Logically, she knew it was  _different_. Ivan was neither Alfred's parent, family member, or spouse, and it had only happened once.

And yet her mind jumped in a direction she loathed.

She let her hand fall to her lap, squeezing them tightly. Winter grasped her fingers.

"Weiss? Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know." Weiss said truthfully. "I didn't expect that."

"None of us did." Winter murmured.

"I should have." Matthew growled. He slammed his hand onto the chair arm and it creaked ominously. " _Damn it._  We shouldn't have brought Russia back here."

"Has he done something like this before?" Winter asked.

Matthew grimaced. "Yes. Russia can get…  _physical_  when it comes to things he wants." He rubbed his upper arm absently and grimaced.

"Then  _why_  did you bring him?" Winter demanded.

"Because he's useful… and he  _can_  be a good person." Matthew sighed. "What you have to understand about Russia is that his sense of morality and how he views things is… different than most people. He honestly sees nothing wrong with what he does." He scowled. "That doesn't excuse him."

"Are you going to confront him?" Weiss asked.

"I'll try. It might not work." Matthew muttered darkly. His eyes glowed and he bared his teeth. "But if something happens again, I'm going to force Russia to return to Earth."

"Hey, not to eavesdrop but what the  _hell_ are you talking about?" Sterlyn interjected. Weiss finally noticed the pilot looking back at them.

Matthew winced, regretting the lack of privacy as much as Weiss did. "It's nothing, Sterlyn."

The pilot turned around and stared at him stonily.

Matthew cringed. "Alfred is having some… issues with Ivan."

Sterlyn did not look away.

Matthew sighed and reluctantly elaborated. "Ivan attacked him in a misguided attempt to 'help' him recover."

"Do I need to kick Ivan off my ship?" Sterlyn asked sharply. Somehow, Weiss felt the pilot would find a way to do it, even if it meant dropping Ivan out of the cargo hold in midair.

"No." Matthew said quickly. "I'm going to speak to him and resolve this."

Sterlyn scowled and turned back to the open sky. "Alfred is a good kid. He doesn't need more crap to deal with."

"He needs a  _break_. That's what he needs." Matthew muttered. "...And therapy. Russia needs therapy, too."

Weiss doubted she was supposed to hear that last bit so did not reply to it. The bathroom door creaked and Alfred exited the restroom at last. His hair was neatly in place, his eyes were not red-rimmed, he smiled like nothing had happened, and there was no sign of bruising on his neck, arm or face. If Weiss did not see him just a few minutes ago, she would find nothing amiss. The thought nauseated her.

"Hey, are Yang and Ruby up yet?" he asked like nothing occurred.

"Yes." Matthew said. "Al—"

"Great." America said brightly. "I'm supposed to help them call Qrow today." He walked out without another word.

Matthew watched him go and put his head in his hands. "What do I do?"

"Watch them." Winter said sharply.

"Talk to Ivan." Weiss offered at the same time.

The two sisters stared at each other and simultaneously looked away.

Matthew sighed heavily and rose to his feet. "This will end well." he mumbled and walked out.

Weiss waited until his blond head vanished from the cockpit to speak. "Winter?" She felt her sister's gaze on her and gripped her skirt between her fingers. She kept her voice as quiet as she could, hoping Sterlyn's helmet would not allow him to hear. "Jacques hit you, too?"

Her sister never looked at her. "...Yes."

Weiss swallowed roughly. "Oh."

"It wasn't often." Winter elaborated stiffly. "I used to come up with excuses why he did it just like Alfred—" She paused. "…It  _never_  should have happened." Her fingers curled into white-knuckled fists. "That's why I stopped  _that_ now."

Weiss wanted to feel relieved. Instead the uncomfortable feeling in her gut refused to fade. She merely nodded and rose from her seat, exiting the cockpit alongside her sister with the proper gracefulness befitting a Schnee.

XXXXXXX

When Canada entered the cargo hold, America was already with Ruby and Yang, holding onto the older sister's Scroll as the two eagerly chatted with their uncle back in Frontier. The sight may normally make Canada smile warmly, if not for one glaring, unwanted presence. It took everything Canada had not to storm over to Russia and physically tear him away from his brother.

Naturally Russia had taken a spot by Ruby, smiling at the oblivious girl who had no idea why America sat so stiffly on her other side. America was smiling and chipper as usual, but Canada knew his twin well enough to spot the tension in his posture and the slight tremor of his hands. If not for those signs, the way his eyes darted towards Russia were also a huge giveaway to his unease.

When Russia spotted the other twin, he had the gall to smile at him. "Canada. Would you like to join us? Ruby's conversation is most entertaining."

"Hey, quit eavesdropping." Yang complained, jabbing Russia in the shoulder.

The large nation chuckled. "Alfred is here and you were not complaining before."

America's smile grew noticeably strained.

"He has to be for his Semblance to boost the signal." Ruby explained briefly before turning her attention back to the Scroll. "What were you saying, Uncle Qrow?"

Qrow hummed thoughtfully, voice surprisingly clear. Canada expected more static from the call. Though he supposed America's Semblance might prevent that.  _"Well, there was this beautiful nurse that came to visit me today..."_

Ruby and Yang groaned.

Canada tapped Russia's shoulder. "How about we give them some privacy?" he said, only able to keep his voice level due to years of diplomacy.

Russia's smile stayed in place. "Nyet. I am comfortable here and they do not mind. Right, Alfred?"

He poked America's arm, and Canada's brother flinched. Canada blood boiled and he wanted nothing more than to slug Russia. There was no way he would bring up what Russia did in front of everyone, and Russia knew it. Not just because it was not their business— and revealing Russia's actions would irreversibly splinter their group— but because America was glancing at him, smiling even with transparent panic in his eyes.

As Canada debated on how to proceed, he noticed he had attracted an unwanted audience. England, Penny, Japan, and Pyrrha were all taking glances their way, and the sharpness in three sets of green and one brown eyes said Canada was  _not_  the only one to notice America's unease. If Canada did not know any better, he might think Russia was purposely trying to cause discord in order to attract Grimm. Sadly, he knew better, and that Russia saw absolutely nothing wrong with what he had done.

Canada resisted the urge to shove his way between Russia and his brother— and maybe blast Russia through a wall in the process— and settled across from them, keeping a polite mask on his face. Russia winked at him cheerfully, and slung an arm around America's shoulders, eliciting a tiny flinch. Canada ground his teeth while America smiled away, doing absolutely nothing to stop him.

XXXXXXX

The scent of spices wafted through the air, filling the kitchen with a tantalizing aroma. China hummed vaguely as he laid bowls out on the table, filling up the space with empty dishes. The lack of leftover room for eating did not matter. No one would dine at the table tonight. Instead each nation would gravitate towards their closest friends, seeking the comfort of familiarity in the wake of upheaval. Once he finished cooking, China would be one of them, shutting himself away with Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Macau. Nations could be such habitual creatures, even him.

China paused, counting the bowls, He removed one and returned it to the cupboard. The fried rice finished cooking and he lifted the wok, smoothly depositing rice into each bowl as he went around the table. He counted the bowls, set the wok down, and went to the cupboard, retrieving the bowl. Rather than fill it with the remaining rice, he stared at the empty porcelain, hand resting on the spoon.

"China?"

China looked to the doorway and noticed Germany leaning against the wall, likely in an attempt to stay out of his way. He noticed where he was standing and hurried over to the taller nation, yanking him forward.

"Do not lean on the fire alarm, aru!"

Germany jumped guiltily, noticing the bright red switch he nearly pushed with his weight. "My apologies." He murmured. The blond-haired nation stepped deeper into China's claimed domain and sniffed cautiously. "Is that fried rice?"

"Yes. I am just serving it now, aru. You can call the others to retrieve their food."

Germany's gaze drifted over the bowls, resting on the empty one. "Is this one yours?"

"No." China said, tone clipped. "I haven't decided if it is anyone's yet, aru."

Germany understood his meaning. "You mean the Atlas soldier downstairs."

China grimaced. The Atlas soldier they found in Poland was in their custody, chained to a bed and locked in a room with no means to leave, yet whenever China compared his circumstances to the twins', he could not help but wonder if they were being too merciful. Responding to cruelty with more cruelty rarely ended well, but China still struggled against the desire to storm down to the soldier's room and introduce him to his tonfas. Regardless of those feelings, that man was human and needed food.

China frowned at the extra rice, and the bowl that might carry it.

Germany noticed his change in expression. "China, do not feel obligated to feed him. We have plenty of different food here."  _Food that isn't from your country, that you personally made. Food that might be more fitting for someone like him_ , went unsaid.

China slammed the wok down on the stovetop, making a few hanging utensils rattle. "That is not the issue and you know it. I do not know how to feel. This man is our enemy. He may be one of the end that took part in the twins' torture. Yet he might not be. Either way, he is our best chance to gain information about our enemy, either through a raised weapon or extended hand. So should I give him this food and imply an offer of hospitality, or should I treat him like the  _monster_  he may think we are?"

Germany scrutinized his expression. "Do you want me to make that decision for you?"

"No." China said shortly.

He picked up the wok and stared at the empty bowl. The Atlas soldier was still downstairs, as he had been ever since they returned to the mansion. Austria and Lithuania remained in the infirmary, recovering from the wounds inflicted by the Tiger Grimm. Everyone else was in their rooms, huddled into little groups as a result of those wounds. The near-loss had shaken them, and China could not help but wonder what might have happened to Lithuania, Austria, Poland, and Prussia if the Atlas soldier was not there. It was true the man may have only saved them because he thought Prussia was an ally but…

_We could use him to gain an advantage. He likely expects violence from us, so why not keep him— as they say— "off-balance"?_

Slowly, China transferred the remaining rice to the bowl and carefully set the wok back down.

"Finland and I will accompany you." Germany said instantly.

China did not protest. He could take care of himself but there were always Semblances to consider. He also appreciated Germany's sneakiness. Finland was bubbly and friendly, but he was also one of the deadliest nations in the mansion. It would be best to have the Atlas soldier underestimate them, especially since they did not know if he needed to be intimidated yet.

While everyone bustled in to retrieve their food, Germany pulled Finland aside and asked for his assistance. Finland was all too-ready to help, but naturally he could not go alone. That was how China found himself leading Germany, Finland, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway downstairs to their improvised cell. America's house did not have a dungeon of any sort— the idiot was too kind for that— but Tony had altered a few rooms in preparation for potential spies.

Spain and Switzerland were standing guard outside one such room, weapons in hand and features sharp with concentration. Cameras showed the inside of the room, where the Atlas soldier paced back and forth as far as his chain could allow. A small device was attached to his arm, blinking green, and from what China could glean from Tony, it somehow sensed the amount of Aura their prisoner had available and whether he used it. It probably did more than that but China decided he did not need to know the details.

Denmark, Norway, and Sweden joined Switzerland and Spain guarding the door, but one look at them must have told Germany ordering any to leave was useless, for he did not protest. Germany entered a code, pressed his thumbprint to a scanner by the door, and flared his light blue Aura while touching it. It was only then that the door unlocked and slid aside, but even after that, both China and Finland had to go through a similar identification process before the shield in the doorway lowered. Call them paranoid, but the nations were taking full advantage of Tony's tech. None of them were taking any chances.

Germany led the way into the room and Finland shut the door behind them, stopping at the taller nation's left shoulder. China lingered at Germany's right, tray of food in hand. The prisoner had stopped pacing and stood stiffly by the bed.

"Dinner." was all Germany said, voice clipped and emotionless.

China stepped forward and set the bowl on the table, stepping away. The table was within the soldier's range, bolted down so much that China bet America would struggle to rip it free. The soldier made no move to approach the table and its available— bolted down— chair, staring at them stonily. The silence ticked on and on, and with every passing moment, China knew something was going to cause things to devolve into violence. He was not one to blurt things, but apparently living in America's house for too long erased the brain to mouth filter he once had.

"Ah, you do not know what this is. This is fried rice, a common recipe from my country." he sniffed. "The ingredients are not from my homeland but they suffice, aru."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him— one confused, one wary, and one unmoved. The soldier said nothing, nor did he move. Even with that hard expression, China could see he was young. Of course, all humans and most nations were young to him, but this human was young even by human standards. He looked to be in his early twenties at the latest.

China's eyes narrowed. "It does not taste good cold. And do not even think about throwing it onto the floor, child."

Finally, he got a reaction out of the soldier. " _Child_?" the man snarled. "I am a soldier of Atlas—"

China scoffed, not in the mood to listen to a long-winded speech about the 'great and mighty' Kingdom of Atlas. "Yes, yes, so I have heard. Just eat the food. It's not nuclear."

The man's brief— but telling— furrowed brow confirmed China's suspicions that he was not as versed in the ways and terms of Earth as others of his ilk might be. Specifically, he did not know what 'nuclear' meant and that it had nothing to do with food. He continued to eye the food warily.

China withheld a sigh. Barely. "Do you want to eat or not, aru?" An idea struck him and he softened his tone. "Consider it a thank you for saving Tolys and Roderich."

The soldier paused. He covered his startled expression with a neutral stare, but all three nations saw it. China had to wonder, was it his thanks that startled the man or the fact that the nations had human names? The Atlas soldier slowly sat down, suspicious gaze never straying from them, and China backed off to give him more room, waiting with bated breath.

"Are those the two that were injured? Are they alright?" the soldier asked.

If China were less dignified like Korea, he would be dancing in glee. As it were, he merely inclined his head. "Both fell unconscious from their wounds but they will survive."

"I see." the soldier said neutrally.

Germany opened his mouth. China stopped him from speaking with a look.

"We will leave you to enjoy your meal." he said pleasantly.

He walked out, and the other two nations followed his example without comment. A glance behind them revealed the soldier was reaching for a spoon. The door clicked shut and China hurried to the cameras to see the man cautiously eat a single grain of rice. He waited a moment and his posture relaxed the slightest bit. The soldier took another scoop of rice.

"What was that?" Germany asked, bringing China's attention back to his fellow nations. The blond-haired nation's tone was not accusatory, but curious.

China smiled. "I tested the soldier, aru. He is not as indoctrinated into Atlas's lies as he thinks."

Germany's gaze grew sharp. "How can you tell?"

"He asked about Lithuania and Austria's health." China said simply. "A colder— more fanatical— man would wish them dead. Add the fact that he was in the forest to hunt that Tiger Grimm— even though Atlas likely ordered him to keep his cover and thus not hunt any Grimm regardless of the threat they posed to civilians— and we may be dealing with a soldier who disobeyed his country to save lives."

He saw the moment Germany understood his meaning. "He worried about the lives of civilians and his enemies..."

"So he will certainly care for the well-being of his comrades." China concluded. "If we appear to be a threat to them, it will only be harder to find their locations. The man will die before he shares anything."

Finland gasped. "But if we make ourselves sympathetic to him before telling him his fellow soldiers are being hunted by Grimm—"

"He may willingly give us their locations." Germany finished.

Finland beamed, but his smile soon faded. "But what if he doesn't? What if it's a trick and he's just like the others?"

China did not need to look to Germany to know the answer. When he spoke, there was no hesitation in his voice. "If he and his fellow spies have malevolent intentions for Earth, then we kill them."

XXXXXXX

America honestly did not need this in his life. But if it helped him stop flinching like a wounded puppy, perhaps he did.

That did not mean he had to like it.

Ever since that incident in the bathroom, Russia took every opportunity to touch him. Nothing that  _should_  be alarming, but to America it was  _hell_. A hand on his arm or his shoulder, bumping into him in the thin hallway between the cargo hold and the cockpit, standing just a little too close behind him… The last instances were always the worst.

America could feel Russia's breath on the back of his neck and froze every time, remembering painful hands and repeated torture. He endured in silence, focusing on going still instead of flinching. Russia did not seem to like that much, as America's current situation showed.

America was laid out over the sink with his hands pinned behind his back. Russia had caught him alone in the bathroom again, filling the door with his large frame and shoving America back inside before pinning him. Logically, America knew he could burn Russia, shock him— Hell, he could even shove him away with wind, but instead he froze in place as the edge of the sink pressed into his gut. Russia's clear disappointment in his lack of resistance did not help bury the shame bubbling in his gut.

"You can do better than this." Russia sighed.

"I know." America whispered.

Russia grabbed his throat and he froze. "Then  _do better_."

America shut his eyes, but forced them open because when he only had a hand and tickling breath to go off of, all he could think about was the soldier— "I can't."

Russia let go of him and walked out. America watched him go and hunched over the sink, head in his hands. Anger pierced the hollow numbness taking hold and he acknowledged it as Vale's.

" _Alfred, next time_ _ **kick his ass**_ _."_ she demanded.

America wiped the blood from his nose and shook his head.  _No. I don't want to hurt him. He's my friend._

" _He'd heal from it. And I'm pretty sure friends don't beat each other up."_

_I already told you Russia is weird like that. He's just trying to help._

" _I don't think he is. And you_ _ **know**_ _it."_ Vale pressed.

America swallowed his nausea.  _Maybe, maybe not, but he_ _ **is**_ _helping. I don't flinch as much._

" _Because you freeze in place._ _ **How**_ _is that better?"_ she growled.  _"If this is his version of hug therapy he's doing it_ _ **wrong**_ _."_

America cringed and decided not to answer her. He silently picked up his bag from by the door and exited the bathroom, nearly running into Canada. His brother opened his mouth but America hurried past him. He didn't feel like talking to his twin at the moment. Mattie probably knew what had happened and would lecture him, just like Vale. Why didn't they understand Russia was trying to assist him? Flinching at every touch was a problem and probably annoying and pathetic and he needed to stop doing it so—

Arms wrapped around America and he froze in place. Oh God he thought Russia was in the other room was he really going to grab him in the halls and demean him where everyone could—

America belatedly realized the arms were too small to be Russia's. He looked down and Nora beamed up at him, smile wide.

"There you are, Alfie. Penny said you would be here." she said brightly, oblivious to his alarm. She struck a pose that would make a superhero proud. "To the secret meeting room!"

Nora grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him past a bemused Canada and back into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She checked the knob and nodded in satisfaction.

"There we go. The space is secured." She scowled at the walls like they personally offended her. "Ugh, I  _hate_  how small this ship is. There isn't even a closet to hide in. So I was wondering if—" Nora paused, smile vanishing. "Are you okay?"

"Great." America breathed. He glimpsed his ashen features in the bathroom mirror and forced his gaze away, swallowing. "Uh. You're holding me a bit tightly."

Nora glanced at his wrist and instantly released him. "Oops. Sorry."

"It's fine." America adjusted his coat and backed up a step, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What's up?"

Nora brightened and clapped her hands together. "I had an idea!"

"Should I be worried? Is the world going to end?"

Nora stuck her tongue out at him. "As I was saying, I had an  _amazing_  idea. Since we're all stuck in this dumb ship for another day and can't do anything, how about we quiz Ozpin about Salem and stuff?"

Vale gasped.

America stared at Nora, surprised. "...That's actually a great idea. Why are you bringing it up with me?"

"Duh. Because you have  _Vale_  in your head." Nora said. "Vale's the only one who knows him at all and I want to make sure that Ozpin won't hurt us for asking things."

America's eyebrows crept upward.  _Okay, we_ _ **really**_ _need to get out of this ship and stop the apocalypse because_ _ **Nora's**_ _becoming_ _ **logical**_ _._

"He might try to take over our  _brains!_ " Nora hissed.

_...Never mind. The apocalypse is still on hold._ A thought struck him. _He_ _ **can't**_ _take over our brains, right?_

" _ **Your**_ _brains are safe."_ Vale said stiffly.

"Vale says we're safe from brain-overtaking." America reported.

Nora breathed a genuine sigh of relief. "See? That's why I'm asking. Cause something I've noticed— and I'm sure you do too— is Ozpin doesn't like to say stuff unless you know what to ask. He's mysterious like that."

America would not call that trait 'mysterious' but he did not argue. "Have you talked about this with anyone else?"

"Just my team and RWBY-the-team." Nora revealed casually. She tapped her chin. "Well, technically I talked with Pyrrha in the bathroom when we do our hair. She talked to Jaune who told Ren who told Blake who told Yang who told—"

"I get the idea." America interrupted. "Do the other nations know?"

Nora shook her head. "Nuh-uh. It's kinda hard to find places to be all secretive and Ozpin might think it was weird if one of us dragged one of them into the bathroom."

America winced. It was disconcerting that merely talking about  _asking_  questions had to be kept secret from Ozpin.

Nora did not notice. She considered their surroundings. "Except you because you're kind of our age but you're really not even though you are and wait a minute isn't Jett your age too and so is Feliciano though we don't know him as well as you so it'd still be weird—"

"I got it." America interrupted hastily. "I guess we might as well ask Ozpin since he can't go off somewhere to avoid us."

" _That doesn't mean he'll answer."_  Vale warned.

_Why wouldn't he?_  America asked rhetorically.

" _He never told_ _ **us**_ _anything."_

America faltered.

Vale chuckled.  _"What? Did you_ _forget_ _that you have your very own semi-immortal Remnant historian in your head? I already told you: Ozpin never told us about his past, Salem's origins, or anything like that."_

_He didn't tell you anything about_ _why_ _he and Salem are fighting? Then why would you follow him?_ America asked, aghast.

" _We didn't have a choice."_ Vale murmured.

America's face drained of color.

" _Not like that. Not in that instance."_ Vale rushed to assure him. Her voice was oddly strained, like she had to force herself to speak.  _"Let's just say... the Warrior King was too powerful to be ignored."_

In that moment, America almost wished his initial thought that the Relic of Choice was involved was true. Instead he was left with questions whose answers had a slim chance of being innocent.

"Nora?" The girl's brow crinkled at his tone. "On second thought, let's be cautious about this, okay?"

All the cheer slipped from Nora's face. "Do we need to get you out of here?" she asked sharply.

America almost wanted to laugh. Even now, she was worried about their precious Relic-key. But what if that was the  _point_? He could not say whether his unease was his own or Vale's. Maybe it belonged to both of them.

"No. Just… Let's just be careful." he said lamely.

Nora studied him, lips pressed thin. "Did Vale say something? Cause we already know Ozpin is shady."

" _You don't know the half of it."_ Vale whispered.

_Tell me,_  America begged.

" _I can't."_  Vale said tightly.

America dragged a hand through his hair but let it go.  _Fine. Can you at least tell us some questions to try to ask?_

Vale hesitated.  _"What are Salem's powers? Is she the source of the Grimm?_   _Will defeating Salem erase the Grimm? What does she want to do with the Relics? What will happen if all four Relics come together? Can one of the Relics destroy—?"_  She stopped.  _"...Don't expect answers."_

America grimaced. A thought nagged him, and he reluctantly acknowledged it.  _Should we try to ditch Ozpin ASAP?_

" _...I'd say yes, but you might need him to find the Vault in Beacon. I was nev— blindfolded when he took me to it."_ Vale said reluctantly.

That did not make America feel better. At all. He filled in the blank on what she  _actually_  intended to say and shuddered. "Damn it." he whispered. "Why do we have to need him?"

Nora misheard his question. "We need him because he's the only one who knows things we might need to know." she pointed out. "Though he doesn't like to share."

All of America's earlier unease crept back and he chewed on his lip. Yes, Vale had a grudge against Ozpin— she admitted it herself— but although she may be cynical and biting, she would not hold that grudge without reason. If Ozpin wasn't in Oscar's body America might honestly consider ditching him in the woods somewhere and hightailing it away. Instead he took a breath.

"Okay. I've got some questions. The nations will see what's going on and support us when we ask."

Nora giggled. It sounded a bit too high-pitched to be cheerful. "We really don't know what Ozpin is capable of, do we?"

"Nope." America said tiredly. He took a breath. "I'll lead. Let him think it's my idea."

"I've got your back." Nora said seriously.

America would like to think she was being her usual exaggerated self. He knew she wasn't. He opened the bathroom door and led the way out. Sterlyn stared pointedly at him.

"Weird place to pick as your hideout, kids." he said dryly.

"We don't have any other options." Nora groaned. She pointed at the pilot. "Sterlyn, I demand that you add a room to your ship."

"Oh, sure." Sterlyn said dryly. "I'll do you one better and just stick a two-story house right on top. You know, use a little glue and tape to attach it. I'll even paint it bright pink in your honor."

"That's the spirit." Nora said cheerily.

America chuckled weakly and headed down into the cargo hold. Everyone was there, shuffled into little groups as they tried to entertain themselves. America noticed Canada glowering at Russia and winced, reminding himself to try to do something about that later. He noted Penny with Ruby and felt Nora at his shoulder and he exhaled shakily before approaching Oscar.

"Hey."

The boy looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. "Hi, Alfred."

America's heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings. "Sorry to be a jerk, kiddo, but I have to ask Ozpin something."

Oscar winced but set down his book. "What do you want to know?"

America decided not to beat around the bush. "About Salem."

He felt everyone's eyes on him and all other activities were forgotten in favor of listening in.

Wide hazel eyes turned gold.

"Hello, Alfred. What questions do you have?" Ozpin asked calmly.

Vale tensed.

America scratched his cheek with deceptive casualness, forcing his posture to remain lax and unbothered. "Well, I've had a lot of time to think since I'm bored as heck, so I was thinking about Salem. What can she do? What are her powers? What does she want the Relics for? You know, stuff like that."

He kept Nora's involvement out of it, not completely sure why. He was merely being paranoid. Ozpin wasn't some villainous mastermind. He would not kill or hurt his followers for asking  _questions_.

In America's head, Vale's breathing grew rapid.

"I see you've thought about this for a while." Ozpin said, not answering anything.

Unease coiled in America's gut. "Yeah. So, you want to answer my questions?"

Ozpin hummed vaguely. "Such answers are not as simple as you think."

"We have time." Yang said, moving to stand beside America.

He resisted the urge to shoot her a grateful look. This was  _stupid_. Ozpin was one person yet they were acting like he was a bomb ready to explode in their faces. America may be wary and paranoid, but he was  _not_  scared of Ozpin. That did not stop him from tensing when golden eyes considered Yang.

"Very well." Ozpin said levelly. "Though I fear I do not have all the answers."

" _Called it."_  Vale whispered but her unease brushed America's mind.

"Well, tell us what you can." America encouraged with a fake grin.

"If I may, I will start with what I do  _not_  know." Ozpin deflected. "For example, Salem's exact location."

America did not ask that question yet, but filed away the answer anyway.

"As for her powers, with her acquisition of three of the four Relics, I fear my knowledge may be out of date." Ozpin admitted. "The last time I fought Salem directly was centuries ago." He grimaced. "Due to my dwindling magic, her power is now far greater than mine."

"What are her abilities?" Ruby blurted.

Ozpin looked at her, and America fought the instinctive urge to step between them. Except… the urge wasn't  _completely_  his.  _Vale?_

Amber said nothing. If she had a body, America knew her jaw would be clenched and quivering.

"Salem can control Grimm within a certain range, ordering them to attack certain targets and even individual people." Ozpin began. "It is one of the many ways she would assassinate certain threats without drawing attention. No one would blink twice if someone died in a Grimm attack."

America repressed a shudder. "What else?"

"She can also see through Grimm's eyes, but again, her range is limited." Ozpin said. "However, it is her more  _direct_ abilities that are more… troublesome."

"Go on." England growled when Ozpin paused.

Ozpin grimaced. "Salem creates Grimm, both from pools and her own blood. She can also use those pools to teleport herself, though doing so weakens her considerably. She has limited shapeshifting that allows her to take on certain features of her Grimm, and allows her to posses the abilities of those Grimm. The Karkadann's poison. The Nevermore's fletchettes and flight. The Nuckelavee's physical distortion and scream. But… most importantly..." His glare darkened. "She can not only enhance negative emotions, but  _feed_  off of them."

A cold pit opened in America's stomach.

"Are you saying Salem can terrify us, and that terror makes her stronger?" Weiss asked hesitantly.

"That doesn't sound that bad." Nora snorted.

Ozpin shook his head at her. "You are mistaken, Ms. Valkyrie. You see, Salem can not only enhance those emotions and gain strength from them, but she can enhance them to the point of  _paralyzing_  her victim. As I witnessed myself, it is effective even against Silver Eyed Warriors."

Ruby flinched. " _What_?"

"Salem always preferred fear and despair over anger." Ozpin murmured. "She is so adept at molding it to her desires that she can snuff out the Silver Eyes' rage with terror."

"I thought you said  _nothing_  could stop Silver Eyes." Yang demanded. Her eyes flashed red. "Oh, wait. Let me guess.  _We didn't need to know._ "

Ozpin's ancient eyes studied her solemnly. "You do not understand. And you will not until you face Salem yourself. She is more powerful than you can imagine."

"I find that hard to believe." England growled. "Maybe if you tried a different tactic than 'throw your soldiers at a wall', then she would not seem so unbeatable."

Ozpin did not deign that with a reply. He smiled at America. The nation and his head-roommate did not trust it one bit. "What were your other questions?"

America decided to continue with something relatively safe. "Is there any way for you to gain more of your magic back?"

"Yes." Ozpin said, surprisingly opaque for once. "Though the methods are..." His gaze flicked to America's and slid to the side, stopping slightly past the nation. "...immoral. I would rather not use them, so I am perfectly content with the amount of magic I have left at the moment."

England frowned at him sharply.

"What does Salem want the Relics for?" America asked quickly.

"To destroy humanity, utterly and completely." Ozpin said.

America had an inkling there was more to it than that. Could a blatant neon sign screaming ' _Missing information!_ ' be considered a mere inkling?

"Couldn't she use her Grimm for that?" Blake asked.

"She already tried." Ozpin said. "She failed. The Relics will give her a more…  _permanent_  solution."

America shivered and rubbed his arms. "Is Salem the source of the Grimm? Will getting rid of her make them all vanish or something?"

"I do not know." Ozpin admitted.

America knew he was hiding something. Frustratingly, he could not think of the right question to ask. A different question popped into his mind and he straightened. "Can anything destroy a Relic? Say, another Relic?"

Ozpin balked. " _What?!_ "

"Can a Relic destroy another Relic?" America repeated. "Look, if Salem gets all four it'll be bad—"

"Understatement." Blake muttered.

"—so maybe we should consider neutralizing the Relic of Choice when we get it." America continued. He grimaced. "I mean, I know I have to unlock it after we retrieve it from the Vault or I'll star in "Hunt Vale: The Sequel" because it's still locked. So what if we stop Choice or another Relic from working somehow?"

Oscar's tan skin was ashen. "You want to tamper with a Relic gifted from the Gods." Ozpin said lowly.

"Oh, bugger off." England snapped. "Your 'Gods' left the Relic of Choice for humanity to use, so they can bloody well choose to destroy the damn thing to save themselves."

"Yeah." Ruby agreed. "I mean, the Relics have been locked up our out of reach for a while so humanity hasn't really been using them, right? We'll be fine without them."

Ozpin's lips thinned.

"That's a good idea, Alfred." Weiss complemented.

America smiled. It froze on his face when he met piercing golden eyes. Vale gasped quietly— No, that wasn't right. She  _inhaled sharply_ , like someone who turned around to find the Grimm Dragon looming behind them. Orange filled America's vision and Penny stared neutrally at Ozpin, having stepped between them.

"Changes in your facial expression indicate an increased probability of aggression. Cease at once." Penny demanded.

America put a hand on her backpack, stopping her weapons from emerging. "It's fine. We just surprised him." he claimed, even though that might not be the case at all.

Penny scowled. Green light flared over Ozpin and golden eyes turned hazel. Oscar slumped forward and America caught him, carefully helping him lay against the wall. The boy's eyes snapped open and America recoiled, struck mute by the fear in his gaze.

"He was angry." Oscar whispered, and America's heart became a lump of ice.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Oscar nodded but he looked shaken.

A low mumble slowly reached America's ears and he eventually realized it was Vale.

" _Shit shit shit shit shit shit_ _ **shit**_ _."_  Amber chanted.

_Vale, please explain._ America begged.

" _I_ _ **can't**_ _."_  she stressed.

_Vale, you can't just freak out in the background like_ _that_ _and expect me to let it go. You mistrust Ozpin for a reason._

She shifted uncomfortably.

America's hands trembled.  _You… mistrust Ozpin for a_ _ **reason**_.  _What is it?_

Silence met his question.

America was finding it difficult to breathe. _Vale, you're freaking me out. Please tell me if I need to get my family away from him._

" _He… won't hurt them intentionally."_  Vale said slowly.

_That's not comforting._

She growled in frustration. _"It's not— Don't misunderstand. He isn't_ _ **evil**_ _."_

That was  _not_  something America needed to hear. She didn't say "He's not a threat." or "He's a good guy." She said "He  _isn't evil_."

A chill went up America's spine. _Oh. My._ _ **God**_ _. Vale, what the hell—_

" _You don't matter."_ Vale blurted like the words were torn from her throat.  _"_ _ **No**_ _individual lives matter. All he cares about is defeating Salem."_

America knew that. Well, he didn't  _know_ , but he suspected. Yet having it put into words shot ice through his veins, chilling him to his core.

" _He's not evil."_  Vale repeated desperately.  _"He's just too focused on his goals. He doesn't see the little picture. He doesn't see the pain he causes when he throws people's lives away—"_ She stopped.  _"You can't…_ _ **Don't**_ _trust Ozpin to choose you over Salem's possible defeat. If he sees a use for you in his fight, he will use you as his guardian. If you die in battle, he moves on to his next chosen one. It isn't done out of malice. He just can't seem to change his tactics. He's..."_

_...just trying to defeat Salem, end his curse, and save Remnant_. America finished.

Vale did not reply. America wanted to believe she was horribly off base. That she did not have all the answers. That she misunderstood Ozpin and his motives. He wanted to dismiss her vague warnings as baseless paranoia. But he couldn't because although Vale hardly knew Ozpin, she knew him a  _lot_  better than America did.

Suddenly, the airship was much,  _much_  too small.

_What aren't you telling me?_  America asked.

" _I can't."_  Vale said tersely, voice strained.

_You can't what?_

" _I_ _ **can't**_ _."_  she repeated.

_Yes, you_ _ **can**_ _._ America snapped.  _You can just tell me what the hell makes you so scared of him—_

Her earlier words came back to his mind.

" _We didn't have a_ _ **choice**_ _."_

" _Not like that._ _ **Not in that instance**_ _."_

Ozpin knew about many things. About Salem, about the Grimm, about the Relics, about how the Relics worked.

He said the Relic of Choice could be used to make infinite choices possible.

He also said the Relic of Choice could be used to  _take choices away_.

_How_  would he know that?

_Vale?_  America thought tremulously.  _Did Ozpin use the Relic of Choice to force you to keep his secrets?_

She grunted.

Not in derision.

But like she'd been physically  _gagged_.

" _...I_ _ **can't**_ _."_  Vale finally choked.

America belatedly realized he was standing in place, staring at Oscar with a horrified expression. He forced himself to smile. "Sorry for causing you a scare, kiddo."

Oscar's brow furrowed but he smiled hesitantly back. "It's okay. I'm glad you got some answers out of him."

"Fat load of good they were." England muttered.

America's gaze jerked to the necklace around his brother's neck and he resisted the urge to run over and force England to shatter it, whisking him out of Ozpin's reach.

" _He's not evil."_  Vale repeated with a hint of desperation.  _"I just didn't want to—"_  She stopped as if silenced by a hand over her mouth.

America swallowed a retch. He could not let himself panic. Not in front of everyone and Ozpin. They had to be careful. Vale never denied that Ozpin silenced her, but he could be using his own power instead of a Relic. But he wasn't evil. He  _wasn't_. Because he wanted Salem defeated which was for the good of humanity,  _right_?

America wandered over to Canada, gripping Penny and Nora's hands as he went and dragging them away with him. The latter girl pouted at his apparent revenge for earlier, unaware that he wanted to put as much distance between her and Ozpin as possible.

But he was overreacting.

He was paranoid.

He was seeing things that were not there.

Vale might be insinuating things that were untrue.

America wished he could delude himself into thinking that. Instead he sat with his twin and wondered how he could warn everyone they might need to ditch Oscar when they stopped in town  _without_  alerting Ozpin.

Except they might  _need_  Ozpin to reach the Relic. If they did not reach the Relic, Salem would never stop hunting America. With Salem hunting America, the worlds were always at risk.

_We're stuck with him, aren't we?_ _Shit._

America did not know what to think.

He did not know what to do.

One thing was for certain.

The airship felt a lot less safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And today on "How NOT to help America get better (And Also Make Many Things Worse)": Russia's bored, America's so far in denial Egypt is going to file a complaint, Weiss has issues, Ozpin is shady (surprise surprise), and Agate extends a hand of peace while they have a knife up their sleeves (just in case…) Disagree with that last one if you want but I honestly believe the personifications of Earth would extend a friendly (or more accurately "friendly") hand before trying force. They know better than anyone that violence only leads to more violence (and they have all the time in the world to sneak their way into their prisoner's head). Doesn't mean they'll sit back and smile if he tries anything though. They're willing to try the peaceful (and maybe manipulative) route, not pushovers.  
> I know a lot happened this chapter but again, I put two chapters together. It probably messed with the pacing but I don't really care, haha.  
> Also: I've noticed words in my documents keep getting switched around or deleted. For example: "less" becomes "let's", "they" becomes "the" and a lot of plural words lose the "s" at the end. I don't know why it's happening, but it's annoying AF. Another example: when I went back in to add this note, "peace" had become "piece". (annoyed sigh) I sometimes don't notice it so please tell me if something is wrong.


	15. Unease and Hysteria

It took far too long for Canada to finally corner Russia. Ironically he succeeded in the very bathroom the nation had attacked America in. When he saw Russia exiting the washroom, Canada did not hesitate to grab him by the shoulder and shove him back inside, shutting the door behind him. Russia smiled cheerfully but his eyes glinted.

"I never knew you could be so rude, Matthew—"

"Don't try it." Canada spat. "Leave America alone."

Russia's smile vanished. "No."

He reached for the doorknob but flinched as ice crackled over the metal. Russia cautiously pulled his hand away, flexing his frost-nipped fingers.

"If you're bored and want someone to push around you can try with me." Canada snarled. "But leave America alone. In case you haven't noticed, he's struggling—"

"His enemies will not care he is sad." Russia huffed.

Any thoughts about a diplomatic approach were forgotten. Ice inched over Canada's shoulders. "Don't give me that  _bullshit_." he spat. "America isn't 'sad'. He's  _depressed_  and you're only going to make it  _worse_." Canada gritted his teeth. "In case you've forgotten, we are flying over the territory of emotion-sensing monsters. Your little 'game' is putting everyone on this airship at risk, not just America. I won't stand for it."

Russia studied him, head tipped curiously, but Canada refused to be intimidated by his stare. Russia opened his mouth. Canada's hand snapped out, grabbing Russia's, and he held the green pendant in the Russian's grasp, squeezing his hand— and by extension, the necklace. Canada glowered at Russia with glowing violet eyes.

"If you hurt America again, you'll be back to Earth faster than you can say 'sorry.'" he snarled.

Russia considered him, and his puppy-like mask slipped, revealing the sharp intelligence lurking underneath. "I think you misunderstand my motives, Matthew." he said pleasantly.

"I doubt that." Canada retorted. " _Stay away_   _from my brother_  or you're gone. From this world  _or_  out of this airship. I don't care which. Got it?"

Russia yanked his arm free of Canada's hold, rubbing his wrist absently. His lips curved. "You've grown a backbone since we last met like this, Canada. How… interesting."

Canada's glare did not waver.

"How interesting… and adorable." Russia tucked his necklace back into his shirt and patted it gently. "You are more like England than you know. And I do enjoy a good challenge."

He forced the door open with an unnerving squeal, eliciting an angry rebuke from Sterlyn outside. Canada fumed silently as he followed Russia out, doubting his message had stuck. Hindsight already crept up on him, informing him of different ways he could have driven the conversation, but instead of trying to explain to Russia why what he was doing was wrong, he instead used force and gave Russia an ultimatum. And if there was one thing Russia enjoyed, it was opposition.

Out of the corner of his eye, Canada thought he saw a black dot in the sky. When he turned his head to look, it was gone.

XXXXXXX

America decided it was not Vale that would kill him. No, dying because the Kingdom fell was too merciful, heroic, and tragic. Instead the great America was going to die because of stress. Ever since he figured out Ozpin might be a problem a couple days ago, America's every nerve was on the alert, leaving him more high-strung than a rabbit on coffee. Though coffee would probably kill the rabbit…

A hand brushed his arm and he went still. A glance at his peripheral showed Penny frowning at him, as she had been all day. America did not know what changed, but suddenly Penny refused to leave him alone, even accompanying him to stand guard outside the bathroom. It was reminding him a bit too much of his stay in Polendina's mansion, making the claustrophobic airship seem even smaller.

His best guess what Penny had finally noticed something was wrong. Not that Russia or Ozpin were the source, because if she knew one or both would be taking a sky diving trip with no parachutes. America uneasily wondered what tipped her off, simultaneously coming up with a thousand excuses for his behavior that did not involve someone to murder.

"Alfred?" Penny kept her voice soft, but America tensed anyway. "You are showing signs of distress."

" _And the sky is blue. Did you know that?"_  Vale spoke snappishly, but her tone was too soft to be biting.

America glanced around self-consciously. He and Penny sat in the hallway between the cockpit and storage area, having ended up there… somehow. America did not remember coming there, but there he was, as alone as he could be and  _not_  in the bathroom where he could be easily cornered. America noticed Penny looking at him expectantly and remembered her comment.

"Yeah, I'm not doing so great." America claimed. "The small spaces are getting to me."

Penny stared at him, unblinking. "You have visible contusions."

America adjusted his collar. "No, I don't."

Green eyes narrowed. "Who must I terminate?"

_Damn it._ "No one, Penny." America said quickly. "It's uh— It's from Vale." It wasn't a lie. Not really. Some of his bruises and cuts  _were_  from Vale's rocky state.

" _You're a terrible liar."_  Vale said flatly.

"That is doubtful." Penny's eyes flashed. "Based on the shape and size of the bruises the most likely suspect is—"

"Penny, I told you Ivan caught me when I fell." America interrupted.

"You have used that excuse four times. Your ability to lie is insufficient. Do you think my logic processes are faulty?" Penny demanded.

"Ivan's not the reason I'm distressed, Penny." America deflected. He glanced around warily and lowered his voice. "Don't act yet, okay?"

Penny eyed him neutrally.

Vale shifted uncomfortably in his mind.  _"Alfred—"_

America hesitated and decided to indulge in his paranoia. He put a hand on Penny's shoulder, speaking to the robotic girl using his Semblance.  _"Ozpin might have done something bad to Vale._ "

Penny's body locked up and her weapons clinked.

America shifted his hand so it lay on her backpack. "There's nothing concrete yet. Just suspicions." he clarified softly.

She frowned at him but the whirring stopped. "Should we inform the others of the potential threat?"

"I wouldn't call him a threat just yet—" Penny glared at him. America coughed into his palm. "...We'll tell them subtly. If Oscar goes to the bathroom we can't be huddled in a circle when he gets back."

"Noted." Penny stated. "I believe the safest course of action is to inform them when we land in Woodland."

America relaxed. "That's a good idea."

"Thank you." Penny said. "In the meantime, you will inform me of Ivan-Russia-Braginsky's transgressions so I may incinerate him."

America winced. "That isn't—"

"Though I do not compute why  _you_  do not incinerate him." Penny continued.

America cringed. "I don't have a habit of hurting my allies."

"But your 'ally' is hurting you." Penny stated. Her green eyes pinned him. "Your Aura should stop you from getting contusions but it has not. As I have previously stated, trauma can affect Aura—"

"I know." America interrupted sharply.

Penny eyed him. Her eyebrow crept upward in a very England-like way.

"Sorry." America mumbled.

Penny frowned.

"Lunch time, everybody!" Yang called from the cargo hold, unintentionally coming to America's rescue.

America immediately rose and walked—  _not_  fled— to the crowded area where he couldn't be interrogated. Penny followed stiffly, though that may just be her normal walk cycle. The others were gathered around some boxes that served as tables, with a few stragglers hurrying in from the cockpit.

Plates were lined up by the microwave, but the ones in sight were still empty, while Blake and Ren divvied out portions of whatever they were eating. Weiss grabbed a plate and walked out, returning after giving it to Sterlyn. The only one who did not come running was Australia. Instead he stared at the wall of the airship, not moving an inch.

Yang poked the side of his head. "Oi, Jett. Get your head out of the clouds and come eat."

Australia blinked like he was coming out of a daze. "Huh?"

" _Food_." Yang emphasized.

Australia looked unenthusiastic. "Huh." he mumbled, still staring at the wall.

Yang huffed.

"I'll get him." America interjected gleefully.

Yang gestured vaguely as if to say "Be my guest."

America sat next to Australia and poked him. "Jett." He poked him. "Jett." He poked him. "Earth to Jett."

Australia scowled and poked him back, and America was proud that he did not flinch. So proud, in fact, that he poked Australia again, resulting in an epic poke war because they were totally mature nations who did things like that.

Vale gave a strangled snort.

America ignored her and jabbed Australia in the shoulder, receiving a prod in return. England glared at them before it could devolve into a tussle but America found he could smirk cheerfully as they separated. After all, he got the final poke in, thus he won the battle. That was enough reason to smile.

That was, until America saw what they were having.

Ham and cheese sandwiches.

_Oh._

America's stomach rolled. He forced his expression to remain relaxed as he shakily accepted a plate, gorge rising. It was just a sandwich. Just bread and cheese and meat. Like he had been forced to eat  _every time_  Polendina thought it  _might_  be a good idea to feed him—

America's stomach lurched. As everyone else happily chowed down, he averted his gaze and took the sandwich apart. He could feel his brothers' eyes on him as he arranged the slices of meat, cheese, and bread on his plate. His churning stomach settled and he picked up a piece of ham, eating it. See, it was  _fine_. No need to overreact. He tried to put a piece of cheese and meat together and nearly gagged.

"Alfred? Are you okay?" Canada asked.

America mentally cringed at his twin's concerned tone. How could he explain that the sight of sandwiches made him sick to his stomach? The truth was, he couldn't. Not without going into detail why.

"Yeah, I'm good." he lied. "Just not in the mood for a sandwich, haha."

Weiss frowned at him. "It's about to go bad. We have to eat it."

Guilt twisted America's already abused stomach into a knot and he thought up excuses. "Yeah, I know. I really want a hamburger."

As expected, she rolled her eyes. "Of course you do."

America hummed vaguely and took another bite of ham, and  _only_  ham, not ham and cheese and bread together in a sandwich. He nibbled on the bread and it was stale. America gulped and shivered, feeling something warm trickle down his back. He was not actually bleeding. It was just his mind playing tricks on him because normally when he was given a sandwich it was after the soldier was done with him. America remembered laying paralyzed by Penny's table, smelling the scent of lunch-meat among the sharp tang of blood, and forced his eyes to remain open and on his friends. He ate the cheese as quickly as possible and did not touch the bread.

A hand darted into view and Penny took the bread, stuffing it into her mouth. Apparently she had the capacity to ignore her learning algorithm for she had learned nothing from the mashed potato incident. Her cheeks puffed out.

America snorted. "Penny, be  _careful_."

Penny swallowed the bread. "Fact: mashed potatoes are more satisfactory." she declared.

"Of course they are. This bread is crap." Romano scoffed.

"It's  _old_." Weiss reminded them.

"How are we doing for food?" Japan interjected solemnly.

"We're fine." Ruby assured him.

"We have plenty." Weiss added. She frowned at the pile. "We should still buy more when we reach Woodland."

"Surely we won't be in the sky  _that_  long?" Nora wailed, flopping over dramatically.

Ren patted her shoulder once before turning back to his meal.

Weiss frowned. "We might be. I doubt we'll be able to follow our planned flight path all the way there. Grimm patterns have become unpredictable as of late."

"But we've been okay so far. And we'll reach Woodland later today." Ruby pointed out.

America's lips thinned. "Woodland is still on the outskirts. Once we get past it the Grimm's numbers will increase drastically."

Weiss frowned. "How do you know—?"

America stared at her blankly.

"...Ah." Weiss winced. She hesitated. "How many towns—?"

"Woodland is the last reliable stop we'll have until Vale." America interrupted tonelessly. A twinge of pain went up his arm and he rubbed it, grimacing.

Ruby jerked, nearly knocking her plate onto the floor as she whirled to look at him. "Is Patch—?"

"Patch is fine." America reassured her. He rubbed an aching shoulder. "It's an island and far enough away that Salem doesn't care about it so the only Grimm there are the normal ones."

Ruby relaxed and studied her plate. "That's good."

America hesitated. "Do you want to call your—?"

"No." Ruby said abruptly. She cleared her throat and avoided his gaze. "No, we're fine."

Yang shot her sister a worried look.

"...Okay." America said.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

XXXXXXX

The arrival in Woodland was a much-needed reprieve. Ren had to stop Nora from pressing herself against the window as Sterlyn landed, though once they did, not even Salem herself could stop Nora from throwing herself out the ramp and hugging the ground.

"Land! Elbow room! _Space!_ " Nora cheered, giggling manically.

Weiss's cheeks reddened from second-hand embarrassment and she looked around awkwardly, relieved no one was there to see Nora's mortifying display. The others emerged from the cargo ship in a more dignified manner, with Sterlyn emerging last. Weiss watched critically as the pilot locked up, nodding in approval as he took extra care to ensure the ship would not be going anywhere without them. Ruby noticed the extended once-over as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Making sure we don't get any thieves or stowaways." Sterlyn explained as he climbed on top to make sure a vent was secure.

"Why would we?" Ruby asked.

"Look around you, Ruby." Arthur said tersely.

Ruby glanced around the shipyard they had landed in and blanched. Needless to say, their cargo ship stuck out like a sore thumb since it was the  _only_  airship there. Weiss scanned the empty space, then scanned it again just to be certain. Indeed, there were no other airships in the shipyard, not even a wreck. Weiss instinctively stepped so she was back-to-back with the closest person, who happened to be Jett. She was not the only one to take a defensive position.

"How quickly can we get back into the ship?" Jaune asked levelly as he stood with Pyrrha guarding his six.

"Immediately. I have the key." Sterlyn said tersely.

Something moved in Weiss's peripheral and she turned her head. There was a crowd approaching. Weiss counted at least forty people, and though most appeared unarmed, that did not mean they weren't a threat. Despite that, she forced herself not to reach for Myrtenaster. These were likely civilians or worried natives coming to see who had arrived.

That's what she hoped at least.

The group stopped some distance away from the travelers, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other in silence. Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss saw Arthur and Matthew step in front of Alfred. His annoyed glower went unacknowledged by either of his brothers.

A man at the front of the crowd cleared his throat. "Hello, travelers." he said and his voice echoed in the uncomfortable silence. "Welcome to Woodland. May I ask why you are here?"

It was not the most tactful greeting. Not by a long shot. Unease coiled in Weiss's gut.

Winter took the initiative to become their spokesperson. "We are Huntsmen on a time-sensitive mission. We're merely passing through to stop for supplies." Her tone remained calm and polite in the face of the crowd.

The spokesperson remained similarly polite, but Weiss could see his hands trembling.

"Who's the pilot?" one man called from the back.

Winter blinked, caught off guard by the question.

Sterlyn hesitantly rose his hand. "I am."

In a blink, he was surrounded.

Weiss barely registered the shouts before she shoved her way through the throng, meeting Kiku and Yang in the middle as they forced themselves between the pilot and the crowd. Weiss reached for her weapon but before she could unsheathe it, the cacophony of noise became decipherable words.

"Can you take me to Frontier?"

"Please, I need to find my daughter!"

"I have lien. I'll give you a thousand!"

"Do you have room for a family of four?"

"I'll give you food and supplies for  _free_."

" _Two_  thousand!"

"I won't take up much room!"

A hand grabbed Sterlyn's arm and Weiss ripped it off, shoving the woman away. She stumbled but lurched back in, clinging to Sterlyn like she was drowning.

" _Three thousand!_ " she shouted, tears in her eyes.

The pilot stared at her, jaw clenched and quivering and another hand grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull him away. Weiss smacked it away and grabbed Myrtenaster's hilt. Red filled her vision as Ruby and Matthew joined their defense, pushing the civilians back. Like a stormy tide the mob rushed back in and Weiss could not fathom what fueled them to reach Sterlyn.

Whatever it was, even the presence of a group of Huntsmen and Huntresses failed to make them waver. She did not want to hurt them. She did not want to force them back. But they grabbed Sterlyn, pulled him, tried to yank him away from them like he was a precious toy, and she had to do  _something_ —

" _STOP!_ "

It was not Weiss who shouted, or even Nora or Yang. It was Pyrrha, her jaw terse with anger, as she shoved through to Sterlyn's side and planted herself in front of him.

"What is  _wrong_  with all of you?!" she demanded of the crowd. "Leave the man  _alone_."

Weiss saw shock become recognition, then unease. The crowd retreated like they were of one mind, eyeing the champion warily. The only sign that Pyrrha noticed was the increased stiffness in her posture, but her expression remained unmoved.

"I apologize that we caused trouble." she said pleasantly, and even Weiss could barely hear the vitriol lingering in her voice. "We shall leave immediately."

" _No!_ " the spokesman blurted. He cleared his throat. "You're the first airship to arrive in months."

"And that gives you the excuse to act like children fighting over a toy?" Arthur growled.

A few of the townsfolk shuffled remorsefully, but others glared at him. Arthur glared right back until they balked and looked away.

"We apologize." the spokesman said. He looked to Sterlyn, and desperation danced like madness in his eyes. "Pilot, would you consider taking a few more passengers with you?"

The silence reminded Weiss of the calm before lightning shattered stone.

"I'm sorry." Sterlyn said firmly. "But my mission is to take these Huntsmen and Huntresses to their destination. I  _won't_  take civilians into a warzone."

Weiss would never forget the way their faces fell. How their eyes widened and skin blanched, like prisoners who were told their execution was upon them. For a moment, she feared the mob may attack and make demands, but instead many wandered off, leaving those who remained without the intimidating numbers they required to force the Huntsmen to do anything. The rest soon followed after, leaving the travelers alone.

"...What the hell." Lovino said, summing up the situation perfectly.

"Are they under the influence of a Semblance or something?" Oscar whispered.

"No. It's just plain-old mundane terror. These people are  _desperate_." Alfred said flatly. His eyes slipped closed. "The Grimm are getting closer to this town. They know it, and many want to escape while they can. The forests surrounding this place already had a Grimm problem  _before_  Beacon fell, so air travel is the only way they can get out. At least the town doesn't rely on supplies from other places to survive..." He flinched and grimaced. "And when I say 'closer', I think if we looked outside we'd be able to see the Grimm."

"The Grimm are  _that_  close?" Ruby gasped. "Then shouldn't airships be evacuating people?"

"They were likely called in to evacuate Vale." Winter said, tone clipped.

"And then they never came back." Alfred whispered. He dragged a hand over his face and sighed.

"...Can we go back in the cargo ship?" Nora asked. "I can fight Grimm, but I don't want to fight civilians over a ship." She paused. "It  _is_  a nice ship, Sterlyn but it's not  _that_  nice."

"...Thanks?" the pilot said questioningly.

"We're not going to fight civilians." Winter said firmly. "Though we must be careful. They might try to steal the airship and end up destroying it instead."

Oscar raised his hand. "Um. Ozpin said he can protect it."

Winter inclined her head and Oscar's eyes flashed gold. He pressed a hand to the airship and a dark green shield appeared over it. Ozpin smiled approvingly. "I will be alerted if someone attempts to enter the ship."

"Great. Thanks." Sterlyn said much more genuinely than with Nora.

Weiss heard Alfred inhale sharply. "Damn it..."

"What was that?" she asked, unsure if she heard right.

He shook his head in a small, terse jerk and crossed his arms, gripping his forearms tightly. Weiss frowned but followed the others out as they exited the shipyard. No desperate people jumped out to try to kidnap their pilot so Weiss finally let her hand fall from Myrtenaster's hilt. It went right back when Alfred gasped.

"Mattie." he breathed, scanning the busy street they emerged on. He locked eyes with his twin, who mirrored his stunned expression. "This is..."

"...the town we first arrived in after waking up in the woods." Matthew finished.

XXXXXXX

The inn in Woodland was not the same one America and Canada last stayed in. It was a bit nicer, yet the prices were lower than what America expected. As he entered the room he would share with a portion of their party— Russia was not among them, thank God— he remembered seeing a wall filled with hanging keys behind the reception desk and supposed it might be due to a lack of business nowadays.

Needless to say, Woodland was not faring as well as Frontier.

A sense of hopelessness hung over the entire town like a cold, chilly blanket, and combined with America's own… problems, he could feel himself being smothered. The people's fear, panic, and— worst of all— numb acceptance that they were doomed haunted his every thought, so as soon as he entered their room, America collapsed onto a bed. He felt Canada, England, Australia, and Penny's eyes on him and forced himself to speak.

"Mine. I call this one."

"Are you okay?" Canada asked, showing America might as well not have bothered with the deflective claim.

America laughed. "Yeah. The mood is bringing me down a bit."

He felt someone sit on the edge of the bed. A hand brushed his hair and he held his breath, going still.

"We're leaving tomorrow." England said, and his quiet tone was almost worse than the usual 'Stop moping and keep a stiff upper lip' speech America expected.

"I know." America shut his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. "Did you know this place is closing? They haven't gotten enough business since Beacon fell and the airships left. The receptionist is already looking for another job, but it's rough. There's none available in her field. She has two kids. An eight year-old and a two year-old. Their dad was killed by a Grimm just last month and—" America stopped talking and put a hand over his eyes. "Damn it." The locals' misery stabbed into his brain like nails and he groaned, pressing his hand against his forehead.

The bed creaked as England rose from it. "This was a terrible idea." he said sharply. "We need to get our supplies and leave immediately."

"No." America blurted. "I'm fine."  _The others deserve a break_ , he thought but dare not say. He clenched his teeth. "Let me try to..."  _Vale, can I turn it_ _ **off**_ _?_

" _No."_  she said apologetically.  _"Not when we're in the center of it."_

America shivered. He sat up and kneaded his forehead. "Hey, Mattie. Do you want to go to that little diner we stopped in last time? I don't want to sit around and mope. You all are invited."

"Why thank you." England said sarcastically.

"Hey, if you're going to be mean you can stay here." America mumbled childishly. Nails stabbed his eyes and he moaned, shutting them. Something pressed against his nose and he grimaced, gripping the tissue. "I'm getting a hamburger." he reported, voice muffled by his plugged nose.

Canada's expression was pinched. "Alfred, you're bleeding."

"No shit." America grunted. "It's kinda my thing nowadays."

Canada sighed. "Sometimes I worry about you."

" _Sometimes_?" England scoffed.

"May I hug you?" Penny asked abruptly.

America shot her a startled look but nodded in assent. The timing was weird but he'd like to encourage non-violent actions from Penny when he could. She embraced him briefly and he recalled her speech about 'oxy-something' and hugs relieving stress. Penny was nothing if not determined and he appreciated the gesture. She released him before it got awkward and looked to England.

"No." England said instantly.

"Hugs can reduce stress—"

"I'm not stressed!" England snapped. " _No_."

"Very well." Penny said agreeably.

"I could use a hug." Australia said.

America shot him a look but knew Australia wasn't one to ask for reasons that would get him punched through a wall. Penny obliged, and Australia laughed, patting her on the back.

"You're good at this." he complimented. "Ten out of ten."

"Thank you. Hug therapy can quite efficient when done correctly." Penny said solemnly. She stared at America. "When done incorrectly, the offender should be terminated."

_...Is she insinuating something?_  America thought uncomfortably.

" _I don't think insinuation and bluntness are compatible."_  Vale informed him.  _"And have I ever mentioned denial does not suit you?"_

America hummed vaguely. "I wouldn't go so far to  _kill_  people for unwanted hugs, Penny." His mind caught up to his mouth and he frowned. "A good shove or punch should do the trick."

"Go for the throat." Australia said cheerfully, but his grin had a sharp edge.

"Your advice has been cataloged." Penny stated.

"What?" Canada said with a jolt, and America realized he had zoned out.

"We were discussing the matter of hugs and unwanted hugs." Penny informed him.

"Go for the eye." the peace-loving Canada said vehemently.

"Your advice has also been cataloged." Penny said, pleased.

England looked torn between pride and unease.

America decided to save him from more morality lessons. "If we're done chatting, how about we get some food? I'm starved." His stomach twinged on cue and he grimaced.

" _It's not just_ _ **your**_ _hunger."_  Vale reminded him.

_Vale, let me have my denial please._

She did not grace him with a reply.

America did not text the others to tell them they were going to the diner until they were outside the hotel. Call him foolish and selfish but he wanted a small break from their company— particularly Ozpin's. America repressed a shiver and unhappily acknowledged that this may be the best time to warn the others about Ozpin's possible unanticipated shadiness. Then he realized that telling England in a public place was probably a bad idea. He'd have to wait until they were back in their room.

_Will they even believe me?_ He thought.  _ **I**_ _barely believe me. I don't have anything to go on except—_

Vale made a pained choking noise.

_..._ _**That** _ _._

America grimaced and reluctantly pushed thoughts about Ozpin aside. He was going to enjoy a meal with friends and family and not worry about Remnant for once. Surely he could manage to do that for an hour?

The diner— unlike the hotel— had plenty of customers. Some chatted with friends with relaxed postures and smiles, while others sat alone and stared contemplatively outside the window. As he stepped through the door and smelled the scent of fresh coffee and grease, America could almost believe he had stepped into a different world.

It had been so long since he experienced such a peaceful atmosphere. The world outside was hell, but in this small diner, problems were left outside the door in favor of the simply joys of good food and nice company. A few passing glances were directed at their group, but nothing more than that. Either none of them realized they were from out of town or they did not care.

America led the way to a nice table near one wall and let Penny nudge him towards the one that kept his back to a corner— and conveniently made it so someone would have to go through her or Canada to reach him. He did not object other than a slight roll of his eyes as a waitress came over.

"Welcome to Sunshine Diner. What would you like to drink?"

"Tea, please." England said.

"I'd like a coffee, please." Canada said. He cleared his throat. "Decaf."

" _Bro_." America intoned, as disappointed as he could. "Do not deny who you are."

Canada's cheeks turned pink. "...Not decaf."

America chuckled at his twin's predictability. He knew Canada too well. "Cola."

Australia eyed the menu. "Do you have root beer?"

"Yes." the waitress replied readily. "Would you like a float?"

"No thanks." Australia declined.

Penny looked up from her menu. "...Water." she said eventually. "Please."

"Got it." the waitress said, writing it down. "I'll be right back with your orders. Take your time with the menus."

"Thank you." Canada said for all of them.

Once the waitress was gone, America turned to Penny. "I know you don't need food but you can order whatever you want." he said quietly.

"They have mashed potatoes." Penny informed him. "That will suffice."

America relaxed. "Okay. If you want to try anything, just steal a bite off our plates."

"She'd better not." Australia bristled.

Penny stared at him.

He groaned. "I've doomed myself, haven't I?"

"Challenge accepted." was all Penny said.

Australia whined.

The waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders. America happily ordered the good-old hamburger with all the toppings, bobbing his head as the waitress parroted them back to be sure. Not a single huffy grumble about fattening foods came from England, much to America's surprise. His brother usually hated it when he ordered 'those disgusting piles of condiments'.

As the waitress wandered off to refill another tables' drinks, Penny immediately began interrogating Australia about what he ordered. It was amusing to see him reluctantly explain what meat pies were and why he liked them while simultaneously trying to dissuade Penny from stealing some of his meal. The poor guy failed miserably, and his expression said he knew it.

The food was set out by a couple waitresses, including America's hamburger. Out of all the meals, his seemed to stick out the most. The heavenly aroma of grilled meat wafted through the air. The bun was lightly toasted. The onions had a slight sharp scent. The lettuce was a crisp green. A healthy amount of ketchup had already been applied. Even the tomatoes were vibrant and wonderfully fresh in a way that would bring tears to Italy and Romano's eyes.

The burger looked delicious.

It was almost picturesque.

Anyone would drool over it.

…America did not want it.

His gorge rose and he closed his eyes to break his sight from the food, denying how they stung. Yes, sandwiches freaked him out but  _not_  hamburgers. They were his thing. His favorite food. He ate them like candy and could be bribed into doing small favors if a hamburger was his prize.

So why did he suspect it would taste like ash on his mouth, no matter how good it actually was?

As everyone else began devouring their meals with varying degrees of enthusiasm— and, in Australia's case, near-feral desperation— America sat in place without touching his. Instead of eating he stared at the hamburger and traced the creases in the roll.

A feeling of hopelessness washed over him and he shut his eyes tighter. It was just a stupid hamburger. He shouldn't have wasted money on it when they had some food at the hotel. Why did he even want to come here? What was the point? This was just a brief blip of supposed happiness that would be gone in an instant. Why did it matter? Why did  _any_  of this matter when he was going to die soon? Why was he bothering to live anyway? The world would literally be safer if he was dead—

America realized what he was thinking and put his head in his hands.  _No no no no_ _ **no**_ _._   _Come on, I'm better than this. Stop_ _ **moping**_ _, dammit._ His lips twisted bitterly.  _Ugh, I'm being so overemotional._

" _You're getting bombarded by misery on all sides while you yourself are depressed."_  Vale said bluntly.  _"What do you expect?"_

_I told you, I'm not_ _ **that**_ _. I'm fine._  America lied on instinct.

" _...I'm_ _ **in your head**_ _, dumbass."_  Vale said tiredly.

America winced.

"Alfred?" Canada— sensitive, observant, empathetic Canada— said softly. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Yeah. Just admiring this work of art." America claimed.

Canada caught his gaze and silently shook his head, showing he did not believe the lie. America's smile faltered and he looked down. He could not deny that the feelings of the people around him were wearing him down. They ate and chatted and smiled with family and friends, but underneath that thin shield of cheer was a deep terror and unease as they tried to deny how screwed they were.

Some of that unease was directed at him.

America slid down in his seat, hiding his shaking hands under the table. Oh. He almost forgot about the stigma some towns had about depre— ... _upset_  people. Was he  _that_  obvious? His cheeks reddened with humiliation and he ducked his head, shame clogging his throat and agitating his nausea.

The locals were miserable and scared but they tried to be cheerful. They had to be or they risked bringing a stampede of the lurking Grimm to their doorstep. But surely they did not believe one person's distress would bring their doom, right? America wasn't such a shitty person that  _he'd_  be the one to attract their inevitable demise,  _right_ —?

"Kid?"

The male voice spoke with faint recognition, and America recognized it in return. He looked up, startled, and a genuinely welcoming look crossed his face.

"It's you!"

The blond-haired guard chuckled. "Yes, it's me." He looked towards the counter and waved. "Hey, Viorel! Look who it is."

The dark-haired guard looked towards his partner and grunted. He accepted the containers of take out and reluctantly headed over, nodding to America and Canada. "I didn't expect to see you again."

" _Viorel_." the blond-haired guard chided.

He shrugged unapologetically. "I suppose you want to eat here." he said tiredly, holding up their food.

The blond-haired guard smiled but looked to the travelers. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all." Canada said. He looked to England, explaining. "These two helped us out when we arrived here. Guard Viorel gave us some money."

"You looked like you needed it." Viorel grumbled.

The blond-haired guard prodded his shoulder. " _Viorel_."

" _Ari_." the dark-haired guard countered.

It was weird to learn their names after all this time. America supposed he could try to use his connection to Vale to learn them, but that felt like a breach of privacy. Still, it was nice to see the two guards were still okay after… everything.

"Thank you for helping my brothers." England said, pulling America out of his thoughts.

The dark-haired guard grumbled. "Sure."

"Don't mind him. He hates when people think he's nice." Ari claimed.

"That reminds me of someone." Canada said mock-thoughtfully.

England grunted.

"Are you speaking of Arthur Kirkland?" Penny asked bluntly.

England made an irate snarling noise.

Ari chuckled and America felt some of his discomfort slip away. Quick introductions were given all around and the two guards pulled up a couple chairs and sat down. Penny eyed them suspiciously but no one else minded their presences. As Ari pulled out a hamburger, America turned back to his own food, eyeing it indecisively.

"How have you been?" Canada asked politely.

Viorel grunted and shoved a bite of pasta into his mouth.

"Busy." Ari said briefly. "We had to train some new hires recently."

"I hate rookies." Viorel groused.

"No, you don't." Ari chided.

"They're  _disgraceful_. I've never met a larger group of klutzes." Viorel grumbled. "I'm surprised they've survived this long without tripping off a cliff. You may think I'm joking but I had to grab one by her ankle before she could fall into a river."

"Sounds… fun." Canada said politely.

The dark-haired guard huffed in disagreement.

"How many tripped?" Australia asked eagerly. He shooed Penny's hand away from his plate.

Viorel scowled. "One. He took the whole group down with him."

America pictured a group of people in the guards' uniforms falling like dominoes and shook his head. "No offense, but I can't picture you two as teachers."

"We didn't either." Ari admitted easily. "The higher ups just came up to us one day and went 'Hey, train these kids.' and it just happened."

America could guess how much Viorel enjoyed that by his expression. He hid his smile with a hand. Before he could speak, Australia hunched over the table, pulling his plate defensively towards him.

"Mine." he growled.

Penny blinked innocently at him, a piece of his food on her fork. She shoved it into her mouth and swallowed. "These 'meat pies' are also satisfactory." she reported.

Australia's eye twitched.

"So did you get promoted?" Canada asked before a war could break out.

Ari shook his head. "Not officially. It was more a circumstantial thing. We had our Auras activated, as did some of the new recruits. We're no Huntsmen but we've gotten by."

"Oh." Canada said awkwardly.

America looked down, stomach twisting.

Ari cleared his throat. "Do you know Team CFVY?" At Canada's hesitant nod, the guard leaned forward. "How are they doing?"

Canada shrugged helplessly. "We… haven't had contact with them since Beacon fell. Last we heard they were staying in the city to help out." His brow furrowed. "I think they were working with some teams that stayed from Shade..."

America winced at the mention of Vacuo's Academy.

Ari's smile faltered. "Ah. They showed up here shortly after you did and stayed a couple days. They were supposed to kill the Grimm you took out."

"So it  _was_  that pack." America said. "Called it." He looked pointedly at Canada, who rolled his eyes.

It was only because of that that America noticed a woman staring at him. She was older in age, not quite a senior, but her severe expression reminded him of Professor Goodwich. The disapproval in her gaze reminded him even more. Their eyes met and she looked away, turning to her friend, and although America tried not to listen, he could hear her even over the chatter of the other patrons.

"—they're all bad luck, I tell you. Just like that boy right there." she was telling her friend. " _Look_  at him. Can't even bother to try to smile, now can he? In my day people like  _that_  were cast out, you know. They're a danger to the rest of us. They bring the Grimm right in."

"That's a myth, Susan." the lady's friend said in a way that suggested they had this discussion before.

"Then why are there so many Grimm about, hmm?" Susan grunted. "I'm telling you, it's because of all those young people bemoaning about their loss of jobs and petty little issues. Maybe if they tried harder they wouldn't be causing the rest of us good folk problems."

America stared at his still-untouched burger, his appetite completely gone. He abruptly rose from his seat and wiped nonexistent crumbs from his hands.

"Bathroom." he mumbled and hurried away.

He entered the tiny men's room but stopped in front of a mirror instead of entering a stall. He studied his reflection, trying to see what the old lady did. He saw a pale-faced, tired, miserable-looking teen who could do to gain some pounds and should be eating his food instead of staring unhappily at it. America's stomach cramped and he shut his eyes. He really  _was_  that obvious, wasn't he?

" _You're physically weakened, Alfred."_  Vale said. " _Of course you look unwell."_

_She doesn't know that_ , America thought.

" _Exactly. You shouldn't let it bother you."_

America's hands squeezed the porcelain of the sink. It did not even creak, showing how weak he had become.  _I know._

The bathroom door creaked open.

America hastily wiped at his eyes. "Mattie, I'm not in the mood—" He saw brown hair and paused.

"I'm not Mattie." Australia groused. "Could you move over? I want to get back before my food magically disappears."

It was obvious Australia was in a sour mood, likely due to Penny's…  _curiosity_. America hastily stepped aside to let him pass. The space was so small the stall door nearly hit him as Australia entered it. America ignored him in favor of rubbing his eyes, wincing at his exhausted features. If he lingered too long Canada and Penny would probably think he'd been kidnapped again. But the thought of going back out made him want to run back to the hotel, hide under the covers, and never come out.

Australia exited the stall and washed his hands while America was still deciding. The blond-haired nation stood awkwardly to the side with his hands in his pockets, unwilling to leave but uncomfortable with the idea of lingering. Damn it, when did he become such an overly-sensitive idiot? Who cared what random old ladies thought of him?

_He_  did.

Quite a bit.

Because 'Susan' wasn't just a random old lady. She was one of Woodland, Vale's people who had been taught by her parents that  _certain_ "lazy and selfish" people were a danger because if they hated life so much the diseased freaks might as well walk out into the woods to die so they wouldn't kill anyone else with them—

"Ignore them."

America jumped and realized Australia was looking at him. The normally grinning nation's scowl was oddly reminiscent of England's, and his sharp green eyes pierced America's own.

"Ignore them." he repeated lowly. "These people  _know_  the depression stigma is bullshit but you know how people in isolated towns like this can get, even back home." America could not hide a wince. Australia frowned but carried on in his usual blunt manner. "I know it isn't my business, but it isn't  _theirs_  either. So ignore them. You don't owe them anything."

"But I  _do_." America whispered. "I'm their—" He remembered who he was talking to and changed what he was going to say. "I should try to  _help_  them but..."  _But instead I might cause them harm._

Australia frowned at him. "If this is because of some misplaced guilt, quit it. This town is fine. They're more well-defended than these people want to believe. You're  _not_  responsible for anything that happens here. Tell others to take their judgmental attitudes to fuck off. You don't need their crap. Focus on holding yourself together, okay?"

America gaped at him, a startled laugh bubbling out of his throat. "It's not that easy."

"Damn right it's not." Australia muttered. "Like I said; focus on your own stuff and ignore everyone else."

America thought about Vale, the Relic, Salem, Ozpin, his people, Earth, Vale's people, Remnant, Penny, Russia, and all of his other responsibilities. " _Ha_." he squeaked.

Australia rolled his eyes and leaned in. "Just between you and me, I think that Susan lady is an idiot. I overheard the staff talking about her. She huffs and puffs about the 'stupid, selfish youth' every other day. You're just her latest target, and honestly,  _her_  bad attitude probably attracts more Grimm than you ever will."

America felt his nausea recede. "Thanks."

Australia studied him intently for a moment then shook his head with a sigh. "You can't let them know they get to you."

America's heart sank. "...Does it get to you?" he asked carefully.

Australia shrugged disarmingly. "Maybe. But I'm not throwing my problems onto you. You have enough to try to balance."

America averted his gaze and scratched his cheek. "France and Jaune said something similar."

"You should take their advice." Australia said firmly.

"And you should take your own." America countered.

Australia inclined his head in acknowledgment and his scowl slipped away. "Now let's go before Penny eats my food."

America chuckled. "You probably shouldn't have left it unattended."

Australia considered his words. "...Damn it."

He hurried out. America exited the bathroom as well to find Susan in an argument with the manager. Her increasingly high-pitched snaps suggested she had said something inappropriately demeaning about one of the employees and saw nothing wrong with that. When America sat down, Penny was smirking.

"What did you do?" he asked casually.

"I overheard the old lady call one of the waitresses a cruel name that suggested the waitress partook in an unsavory nighttime profession." Penny said vaguely. "I informed the manager as protocols for such situations dictate."

Ari shot her a bemused look but did not question her odd way of speaking.

"I heard her say it, too." Canada added, face blank.

Apparently America was not the only one to hear the old woman's comments. He sighed and supposed he should be grateful Susan was still breathing. He finally picked up his burger and took a bite. It was a bit cold, yet was as delicious as it looked. He happily took a large mouthful, only to regret it when he noticed Australia's horrified expression and began laughing. The Aussie barely blinked as America choked on his food, staring at his own plate in horror.

"I had two bites left." he said faintly. " _Two_."

"I was informed you were finished with your meal." Penny said blandly.

"I  _told you_  I wanted it!" Australia spluttered.

"I was misinformed you were finished with you meal." Penny amended.

Australia's eye twitched. " _ **I.**_ _Told you._ "

Penny's head tipped. "It appears my memory of that event was faulty. Oh my. I must do a scan later to troubleshoot the issue with my memory and patch it."

Australia eyed his empty plate mournfully and laid his head on the table in an overly-dramatic way that would make France proud.

"My life is  _pain_." he muttered, and America nearly sprayed a mouthful of burger on England.

XXXXXXX

Th next time Ruby saw the twins, she was going to give them a piece of her mind. They went to get food without inviting  _her_? She did not mind that they did not invite her team, but  _her_? The traitors. How could they not invite her to get  _food_? The twins were organized, and knew where things were, and wouldn't spend time arguing over where to go. And since they did not invite her, now poor Ruby was stuck with her team and JNPR, trying to figure out where they were in Woodland. It was a pretty small town, yet somehow both teams had gotten… sidetracked. Yes, sidetracked was the word. Not lost. They weren't lost.

They just did not know where they were exactly.

Yep.

That would not be so bad if there wasn't a convenient restaurant  _right there_  that was being ignored.

Ruby stood awkwardly to the side as Weiss and Nora argued about which way they should go. Nora claimed there was a pancake house just a couple streets over while Weiss pointed irritably at the small family restaurant that would serve their needs just as well. Ruby loved her friends. Truly, she did. But right now she was tempted to abandon them and go to the nice restaurant that had nice people who could nicely tell them where their nice hotel was compared to here once they were done with their nice meal. Instead of standing outside. In the street. Arguing. While Ruby was  _hungry_.

This wouldn't have happened if Winter had agreed to go with them. Or another responsible person. Or if Alfred and Matthew thought of poor innocent Ruby who was about ready to deny the team named RWBY was hers.

As Nora and Weiss's argument grew more heated, Ruby was beginning to wonder if too much time on the airship had made them go crazy. She caught Jaune's eye and nodded towards the restaurant.

The brave knight took a breath and cleared his throat. "I believe we should put it to a vote—"

"We're getting  _pancakes_." Nora snarled.

"We're  _at_  the other restaurant." Weiss growled.

Jaune looked to Ruby and threw up his hands in defeat. Ruby gave up on him and looked to Pyrrha. The champion casually looked away so her hood hid her face. Cowards. The lot of them were  _cowards_.

Ruby's stomach grumbled. She barely glanced at Ren— who may be meditating or asleep and honestly she wouldn't blame him for either— and at her final source of salvation. Blake, the  _only_  teammate she could rely on— What? Yang didn't count. She was  _Yang_.— elegantly flipped a page in her latest book, and heard Ruby's desperate prayer.

"Nora. They have a pancake special." Blake said blandly.

Nora shot across the street. When did she get Ruby's speed? Weiss huffed and followed at a slower pace and Ruby belatedly noticed the crowd of people watching them. She froze in place, torn between annoyance and mortification.

Yang coughed loudly into her palm. "Wow, what a show. That'll be ten lien each."

The crowd dispersed before she finished speaking.

Yang smirked triumphantly. "I sure know how to clear a street."

"That's a bad thing." Blake said drolly.

Yang chuckled and led the way into the restaurant. Nora and Weiss were already seated, the white-haired girl poised and proper while Nora slouched in her seat. Ruby secretly suspected she was sitting like that to irritate Weiss. As long as no pie flew around, they should be okay. The teens sat down just as an older waitress approached.

She took one look at their weapons and cocked her head curiously. "Are you Huntsmen?"

"Yes." Ruby said briefly. She just wanted  _food_.

The waitress smiled. "You get a fifteen percent discount on your meal."

"Awesome!" Nora cheered.

The waitress clicked her pen. "Now, what would you like?"

"A strawberry milkshake and double stack of pancakes." Nora said instantly.

"Nora, we don't order food yet." Weiss hissed.

"It's fine, sweetheart." The waitress chuckled as she wrote the order down. "I can put it right in."

Following Nora's example, the others ordered drinks and food as well. Ruby made sure not to look at Yang and her mock-disapproving face as she ordered the cookies and cream milkshake with her meal. She was a hungry and growing girl, darn it, and she could order what she wanted  _so there_. Plus, it had milk in it which meant it helped her grow.

So there.

The waitress left the teens alone and Nora bounced in her seat, craning her neck. "Hey, Blake. Can I switch seats with you?" she asked.

"Why?" Blake asked.

"You're  _facing_  the kitchen." Nora whispered.

Blake lowered her book, sighed, and got up. Nora zipped over to her abandoned seat and grinned, unblinking gaze focused on the kitchen. Blake rolled her eyes and sat down in her new designated area. The murmurs of other patrons washed over Ruby and she smiled.

"This place is nice."

"It's acceptable." Weiss said.

"Hey, everything's better than what we've been eating." Yang said.

"I never want microwaved food again." Nora groaned.

"You're  _getting_  it again." Weiss huffed. "We can't cook on a stove or stop at a restaurant where we're going."

Ruby's smile faded. There were no other stops between Woodland and Vale and while Vale would still have running businesses and restaurants, when they got there it was unlikely they would have any time to eat at any of them. The waitress came back with their drinks and Ruby scrutinized hers. It was a perfect consistency and had whipped cream and a cherry on top, just how she liked it.

"Is something wrong, sweetie?" the waitress asked. "I can get you a replacement if you need it."

"No." Ruby said quickly. "Thanks. Uh… do you have any chocolate chip cookies?"

The woman nodded slowly. "We usually crumble them but I'll get the chef to keep a whole one for you."

"Thank you." Ruby said.

Yang watched the waitress go. "Ruby, you don't need the sugar."

"I  _want_  the sugar." Ruby claimed. She poked her milkshake with her straw. "I want a cookie before we go."

Yang went quiet and considered her soda.

"Excuse me?"

Ruby blinked and turned, looking up. A woman stood in her former blind spot, wringing her hands. She looked to be about thirty, her skin tanned from the sun and freckles splattered across her cheeks. Her eyes darted nervously to the older teens, who watched her carefully, before focusing back on Ruby.

"You're a Huntress, right?"

"Yes." Ruby said. "We all are."

A few of the patrons turned their way, and some raised their glasses to the teens, smiling. Ruby awkwardly nodded in return, befuddled by their reactions.

"Where did you come from?" the woman asked curiously.

Ruby was getting the inkling this woman was the gossipy type. Why else would she walk up to them like that? "We arrived from Frontier." she said anyway.

" _Frontier_?" the woman's mouth fell open. "Were you there when the Atlas refugees arrived?"

Forks stopped clinking on dishes. Soft murmurs became silence. Dozens of eyes landed on the outsiders.

Ruby's mouth went dry. "Uh."

"No. We left before they arrived." Blake said before Ruby could answer. Her tone was clipped and her yellow eyes were sharp.

The woman glanced at the Faunus and quailed. "I see." she said hurriedly. "Enjoy your stay." She fled.

Ruby watched her go. "What was that about?"

Jaune shrugged helplessly. The waitress paused to refill their drinks, leaning over the table slightly.

"Don't mind her." she murmured. "Some people are just buying into the news' hysteria."

"Hysteria?" Ruby echoed.

The waitress scoffed. "You know. How Atlas is planning an invasion and controlling the Grimm. How the refugees will cause our economy to collapse. How their presence is going to attract the Grimm. Trashy rumors like that."

Ruby gawked, aghast. She was the only one surprised.

Weiss's nose wrinkled. "I'll never understand why reporters like to stir trouble like that."

The reporter shrugged. "Bad news sells. But it also attracts Grimm. Still, some people would rather have their exciting stories than use common sense." She shook her head. "But enough of that. Your meals are taking a little long so would you like an appetizer while you wait?"

Weiss frowned. "We can't really afford—"

"I'll pay for it, Madam Huntress." a random man called across the restaurant.

Weiss balked.

"We'd like an order of pancake bites!" Nora squealed.

"Put it on my tab. Their drinks too." the same man said.

Weiss's eye twitched.

The waitress laughed. "Pancake bites, coming right up."

She headed back to the kitchen.

Weiss's frown vanished and she nodded politely to the man. "Thanks, sir."

"No problem." he said warmly. "Thanks for all that you do."

"It's our duty." Weiss said simply, and turned away.

Ruby waited a moment before leaning over to her partner. "What was that?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious? He's paying for a portion of our meal because we're Huntsmen and Huntresses. It happens sometimes."

"But  _why_?" Ruby asked, perplexed.

Weiss sighed, but Pyrrha was more willing to spell it out. The champion took a sip of her drink and set it down.

"We kill Grimm and keep places like this safe." she said simply.

Jaune's expression cleared. "People in my hometown would do that too. When a Huntsman passed through, someone would usually pay for their meal as thanks. It's almost an unofficial custom."

Ruby frowned at her drink and stirred it, mixing the melted whipped cream in. She glanced around and lowered her voice. "This town is weird."

"Not really." Nora said dismissively.

"I have to agree with Nora." Jaune added. "It's not that different to home. Besides, I doubt this place has had much outside contact since Beacon fell. We're new faces. And Huntsmen. Of course they're interested." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "They probably want to give us an incentive to stick around town for longer, too."

Ruby was not sure how to respond to that. She took a loud sip of her drink instead.

"At least they're not trying to steal our pilot this time." Weiss muttered.

Ruby remembered the mob from earlier and shivered. "It's still weird. They're almost as..." Uninformed. Gossipy. Nosy. Disconcerting. "...strange as Atlas's people."

"Welcome to the small town life." Yang sighed. "They have nothing better to do than fret and gobble up the big towns' hysteria-mongering." She scowled and stabbed a piece of chicken with unnecessary force. "No wonder Dad likes living in the woods."

Feeling the curious eyes on her back, Ruby could not help but agree.

XXXXXXX

Qrow Branwen was a proud man. He was one of the finest Huntsmen on Remnant, skilled and so menacing that criminals would flee from just hearing he might be nearby. He was one of Ozpin's most trusted agents, going on clandestine missions while the world remained unaware, and singlehandedly responsible for stalling Salem's plans more then once. He was indeed a proud man, a powerful Huntsman, a threat to be feared.

He  _was_ , as in used to be.

Now he was paraplegic.

Now he was not a Huntsman.

Now he was not Ozpin's agent.

Now he was… was…

Well, pride could only get a man so far.

Honestly, a good drink would be a nice substitute at the moment.

Qrow lay in his hospital bed, flicking channels aimlessly. It was all crap. The morning had long since passed, leaving only reruns and strange programs that made him question his sanity. He turned it off and stared at the hospital ceiling, holding in a sigh. It was times like this, where he was alone and had only his thoughts to keep him company, that he wondered if, just  _maybe_ , something would happen if he tried to move his legs. Not this time.

Qrow had reluctantly dipped his toes—  _Har har, I forgot to laugh._ — into accepting his situation. He was certainly one to brood, but he had more than enough hours to do so during his alone time. And in the greatest bout of irony, one of his few saving graces was Whitley Schnee. The kid was entertaining, if nothing else. Smart in the ways of the business world, off-putting in the ways of socialization, which led to some bemusing conversations.

Qrow had no clue where the kid had gotten the idea to visit him from time to time, but either one of his nieces— Ruby— had put Whitley up to it with naively good intentions or Qrow's Semblance had decided he needed some bad luck for once. The kid wasn't annoying, and his company was not unwelcome, but Qrow still had trouble wrapping his head around Whitley's insistence on visiting him.

It wasn't a publicity stunt— one never knew with Schnees— and the kid only knew him through his sister's partner. Again, it was strange, but not unwelcome. And that welcoming feeling had nothing to do with how Whitley tended to babble about his interests like Ruby did, and looked startled whenever Qrow thought he had a good idea. In hindsight, some of his expressions reminded him of Ruby when she spotted a Huntress she hero-worshiped—

_Damn it._  Qrow realized.  _I've gone soft._

Red flickered in his peripheral.

Qrow barely glanced towards it before he laid back on his pillows and scowled at the ceiling. "What a not-surprise. It's about time you showed up, Raven."

"Brother." his dearest sister greeted.

Qrow eyed her critically, expression unmoved. "Are you here to kill me?"

"You wound me, brother." Raven claimed.

She sat in the guest chair by Qrow's bed and crossed her legs, laying her hands on them almost daintily. Nothing about Raven could be considered dainty. It came with being the leader of a tribe of murderers. Despite being the leader of said tribe of murderers, Raven looked unhurried as she sat in the dinky plastic chair. Either she did not care if a hospital worker stumbled upon her, or she somehow knew their schedule. Knowing Raven, it was likely the latter case with a bit of the former mixed in.

"So you're here to gloat, then." Qrow guessed dryly.

Raven scoffed. "Is it gloating when I turned out to be right?"

Qrow glared at her. "Yes."

Raven's lips dipped into a sneer. "I told you it would end like this."

"You told me I'd end up dead." Qrow reminded her.

"The result is still the same." Raven retorted coldly. "Ozpin used you until you broke, and threw you away like the tool you are. I  _warned_  you."

"Ozpin isn't some evil mastermind, Raven." Qrow snapped, prepared for the same old arguments they always had. "Summer knew exactly what she was getting into—"

"No, she  _didn't_." Raven spat. "She was Ozpin's precious champion, yet he carelessly threw her at Salem like all of his other toy soldiers. She  _died_  for it, just like everyone else."

"So running away and letting Salem win is better?" Qrow challenged.

Raven eyed him distastefully. "Even after this you still blindly believe Ozpin's baseless tale of good verses evil. Look where that loyalty got you."

Qrow huffed and gestured at his useless legs. "I didn't get this because of Ozpin. I saved Ruby, our  _niece_."

"And because of your 'sacrifice', the next generation's champion is still a functional pawn for Ozpin to use in his game of chess." Raven stated. Her red eyes narrowed. "You're content to say your sacrifices are necessary, but what about  _them_? Will you be so loyal when Yang or Ruby become Ozpin's next failure?"

Qrow's hands clenched into fists. "You don't know them so well, so let me tell you about your daughter and niece. Yang and Ruby are smart. Smarter than us, anyway. They don't trust blindly."

Rather than silence her, Raven's eyes glittered. "So you admit Ozpin shouldn't be trusted." She said triumphantly.

Qrow's knuckles cracked. "I know Ozpin made mistakes, but even though he's immortal, he's still only human. He can't predict everything."

"But he can do his best to  _manipulate_  everything." Raven retorted. Her cold look faded, revealing something resigned and tired underneath. "He  _never learns_ , Qrow. You should have realized that as soon as he let Ruby go to Beacon two years early. With age comes habit and apathy. How can we expect an immortal man whose only goal is to destroy someone to care about puny human lives?"

"That's ironic coming for the leader of a band of murderers and thieves." Qrow said scathingly.

Raven huffed and leaned back in her chair. "I've chosen my path, and it's out of Ozpin's reach. That's all that matters."

"How noble." Qrow said flatly. "Too bad you didn't consider your  _family_  while choosing."

Raven stood abruptly and slashed the air, opening a portal. "Yang made her choice and I have made mine. I won't mourn someone who is already dead."

"Keep telling yourself that." Qrow scoffed.

Raven paused. She turned slightly back towards him, just enough to give Qrow a glimpse of one red eye. "...The new Vale is a twin, is he not? Just like us."

Qrow stared at her stoically, not deigning her with the slightest response.

Raven's expression twisted, and Qrow wondered if that was genuine grief in her eyes. "I wonder which one Ozpin will sacrifice."

She vanished through her portal, leaving Qrow alone. He sighed and shifted as much as he could, staring at the blank white ceiling.

His Scroll rang.

Qrow instantly picked it up and put it to his ear, because although he knew Ruby promised to call every otherish day, his heart pounded every time, wondering if this time it would not be a cheerful voice that greeted him but one choked by grief—

" _Hi Uncle Qrow!"_  Ruby greeted cheerfully.  _"Sorry I didn't call earlier but we just arrived in Woodland."_

Qrow relaxed and smiled. "Hey, kiddo. You're right on time. I was just starting to miss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet is being unreliable again so here's another slightly-early chapter.
> 
> Guess what? This chapter was originally two chapters but I put them together.
> 
> ...Instead of updating randomly I just keep combining chapters. I still have no self-control. XD
> 
> With the way Grimm affect civilization on Remnant, it makes me wonder what kind of stigmas and habits some of the more isolated towns would have. Grimm are attracted to negative emotions, after all, and Huntsmen are rare to come by, though traveling Huntsmen pass through occasionally. So while Huntsmen and Huntresses are put on a pedestal and given incentive to stick around (Hey, these nice townspeople will pay for your food. How nice and without ulterior motives they are. :/ ), people who might "cause trouble" can be treated like trash by some…
> 
> Could this be considered a worldbuilding chapter? Hmm…
> 
> See you Monday!


	16. Divide Them

_I think I'm going to have a problem_ , America decided after yet another night without sleep.

The hotel curtains were closed, blocking his view of the sky, and the clock was on a bedside table somewhere behind Canada's body. America had no idea what time it was, how long he had been laying there, or if it was anywhere close to dawn. He spent the night staring at the wall as his thoughts went in circles.

Should he get up and talk to Penny?

No, that would wake everyone except Mattie.

Should he get sleeping pills or something?

_That_  would go over well.

Should he do some research?

He had wanted to try to make a will when he got here. But they were leaving too quickly and he was not sure how those things worked on Remnant. Did this town even have a law office? It must since so many people were worried about the Grimm.

No, he could not do that. There was not enough time, and he did not have the energy to explain to a lawyer that he was dying.

A laugh almost made it out but America stifled it at the last second, shoulders lurching. He kept his hand over his mouth to ensure no sound escaped, hoping Penny would not notice. He knew she would, but did not have the energy to reassure the robot he was fine. He did not have the energy for a lot of things these days.

_I'm just tired,_  he told himself.  _Once I sleep I'll feel better._

He could not even convince himself, especially as the hours passed without him receiving a blink of rest. He could go into the closet or bathroom and use the light of his Scroll to do something so he would not wake anyone. He could ask Penny if she wanted to go somewhere, as risky as that may be. He could open the curtains to look at the moon and stars.

Instead he stared at the wall, pinned to the bed by his blankets.

_Once I'm out of this place I'll feel better_ , he told himself.

He stared at the wall and waited for morning, but even when Penny moved from her chair and crouched in front of him, he did not do much of anything else.

"Alfred, the others should wake soon. Do you want to shower?" Penny asked.

Exhaustion swept through America like an icy wave and he shook his head. Instead of fabric, his blankets were made of the densest of metal, and the thought of shifting them aside to rise felt nearly impossible. Even his limbs felt weakened him, remaining limp at his sides, his muscles as useless as overcooked noodles. Woodland must be affecting him pretty badly today for him to feel so de— miserable because America would never feel so awful that the mere notion of getting up to shower felt beyond his capabilities.

He knew Penny expected an answer so he forced himself to reply. "Not yet."

Penny's expression smoothed out. "Very well."

She sat with him in silence, and America's stomach twisted with guilt. Here he was complaining because he could not get any sleep and had nothing to do when Penny did not have the capability of sleep and was left watching him mope around like an angsty teenager. He should find her books or something to pass the time. Maybe cookbooks? She liked to cook and France offered to teach her.

Fabric rustled and America recognized England's yawn. He did not bother to turn over as his brother's bed creaked as he got up. A loud squawking sound came from the floor as he stepped on a squeaky board.

"Damn it." America heard him hiss.

The random thuds behind him suggested England was dancing across the floor in an attempt to avoid the other noisy boards. The mental image of England tip-toeing and jumping like a confused swan as he made his way towards the bathroom almost brought a smile to America's face. Almost.

America heard the bathroom door click shut. The shower started a few seconds later but neither Canada nor Australia woke. America listened to the patter of the water and debated whether to get up. Showering wasn't that important, but he should at least get up before England came back in. But why should he? He did not have to do anything until they left, right?

" _Alfred, you should shower."_  Vale said.  _"If you don't, you'll feel terrible later."_

_I don't have to shower every day_ , America informed her.  _I'm not that dirty._

" _That's not what I—"_  Vale stopped abruptly.  _"Look, we're going to be stuck in the airship again. This is the last nice shower you'll get."_

_I guess that's true_ , America mused.

" _Then get up."_ Vale commanded.

_Yes, ma'am,_  America thought dryly.

He peeled the heavy blankets off of himself and shivered, rubbing his arms. He mumbled a good morning to Penny and quietly ruffled through his bag in search of fresh clothes. He needn't have bothered with keeping quiet. Australia sat up as soon as he did, hair sticking out and eyes bleary with sleep. His hands flailed at nothing as he twisted and he successfully tangled his legs in his sheets. America observed as Australia lost a fight with the air and fell out of bed, landing on the floor with a thud. Canada snored obliviously on.

"Ow." Australia mumbled into the carpet.

America winced. "Are you okay?"

Australia did not look up. He said something that could have been "Yeah, I'm okay." or "This floor smells like cheese." It was difficult to tell. America decided to be the poor nation's hero and helped him untangle himself from his self-made blanket trap.

"If you wanted to be a mermaid I'm sure England has a spell." he said blandly as he tried to unwind the sheets wrapped around Australia's legs.

"Bugger off." Australia grumbled.

America grabbed the end of the blanket and yanked it hard, pulling it and its captive up off the floor. He watched smugly as Australia briefly went airborne before crashing back to the ground in a heap.

A green eye glowered at him. "Arse."

America threw the blanket onto the bed and ignored him, returning to his bag. The bathroom door clicked and England stepped out, drying his hair and scowl in place. He gestured over his shoulder.

"You might want to shower before the others wake. The water won't stay hot long."

Some of the heaviness returned to America's limbs but he fought it and the urge to return to bed. "Thanks."

He gathered his clothes and headed towards the bathroom, only for a brown blur to shoot past him.

"Me next!" Australia said as he slammed the door shut.

America raised a fist and pounded on the door. "Jerk!"

Australia cackled.

America huffed. "That's the thanks I get for helping him. I see how it is."

"Do you want me to forcibly remove Jett-Australia-Kirkland from the bathroom?" Penny asked.

America considered it.

"No, Penny." England said quickly. "Alfred, you can wait."

America pouted at him. He glanced at his bed and tore his gaze away. "I really have to go. Maybe the public bathroom is open in the office."

"Do you want me to accompany you?" Penny asked.

America shook his head. "No thank you. I'm sure I can go down a single floor and back without finding trouble."

"That's debatable." England said.

"Arthur Kirkland's statement is supported by evidence." Penny agreed.

America sighed. He crossed his arms, gripping the insides of his elbows tightly. "If you want to come, you can. We need to figure out if they have caffeinated coffee before we try to wake Mattie."

"I will accompany you to acquire that information." Penny decided.

America nodded mutely and grasped the sleeve of his pajama shirt. He immediately released it, glancing at England self-consciously. Yes, his brother knew about his scars but the old shame still needled at America. He forced down his stupid self-loathing and faced England, keeping his gaze on his feet. He quickly pulling his shirt off and putting his day clothes on, pretending that he could not feel his brother's eyes on him the entire time. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted with the scars? He did not say much when he first saw them but he must be. It was just another loss on America's part, just another way to show how Remnant beat him.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself you stupid idiot_ , America ordered himself.

It did not help.

In fact, he felt a bit worse.

America took a breath and pressed his hand over his eyes.  _Stop it stop it stop it_ _ **stop it—**_

"Alfred?"

America focused on England. When had he gotten so close? His brother said nothing, only studying his face, and America averted his gaze, afraid of what he might see.

England's lips thinned. "Restroom?"

"Right. "America mumbled. "Let's go, Penny."

She followed him down to the front office. The receptionist was already at her station. She smiled at them despite her impending job loss and grief and fear that she would not be able to support her children—  _Stop it._

"Good morning. How may I help you?"

"Morning." America greeted. "Is the public restroom open? One of my brothers is being a jerk."

The woman laughed. "Yes, the men's room is down the hall and on the right."

"Thanks." America said. He looked to Penny. "Meet you in the room?"

"...Alright." Penny agreed after a pause. She turned to the receptionist. "I have a question. Is there caffeinated coffee available? Our room only has decaffeinated coffee which will not be satisfactory for our brother..."

America paused. He thought back to when they checked in but failed to remember if they said they were family as a cover story. They must have. Penny would not mistakenly say that .

He continued down the hall as the receptionist's response became a low murmur and opened the bathroom door. There was no shower, but he could at least wash his face. No one else came in— either friend of foe— and America felt a bit of smug satisfaction that Penny and England's worry was for nothing. He was a trouble magnet, but he wasn't  _that_  bad.

America smiled at the receptionist as he passed again and headed back upstairs. Were the others up yet? It was still pretty early. Yang would probably still be asleep, and there was no crashing to suggest Penny had succeeded in waking Canada yet. Pyrrha, Winter, and Weiss would definitely be up though. His steps slowed and he paused in the stairwell.

_I need to tell them about Ozpin._

America nibbled on his lip, cringing as Vale's unease jabbed at him. She blocked him off, but it was too late to hide the panic that enhanced his own. America shook his head and hurried up the stairs. The girls were in a separate room than the boys— including Oscar— so he should be able to warn them and his family before they met up with Ozpin again.

He noticed an open door at the end of the hall and slowed. This was not anyone's room as far as he remembered. Did someone else come in late last night? He resisted the desire to nosily peek inside and turned away. It was none of his busi—

A hand clapped over his mouth, another wrapped around his waist, and he was yanked into the room. America barely registered the touch before he burst into flames. He heard his attacker gasp and jerked his head backwards. His head clipped something hard— a chin?— and his attacker released him. He twisted, fist raised and punched the man in the throat—

America froze as he watched his attacker topple, arm still extended in a punch.

"Russia, you  _asshole_!"

The large nation smiled cheerfully even as he coughed, hand to his throat. He tried to speak but wheezed instead, yet somehow kept that infuriating smile on his face. America resisted the violent urge to kick him and instead backed up a step, glowering.

"What the hell, dude?" he snarled. "I almost burned you again."

Russia grimaced but stood up, still smiling and rubbing his neck. "You did much better this time, Alfred." he praised happily.

His tone was more appropriate when congratulating someone for nearly perfecting a complicated dance move. America felt a headache building behind his eyes and kneaded his forehead.

"Ivan—"

A hand latched around his throat and he froze in place.

Russia's smile vanished and he stared at America with cold violet eyes. "...And yet it is still not enough."

America stared at him mutely.

Russia sighed, shaking his head. "You still don't understand. Perhaps I should spell it out for you." His hand reached up, grasping America's hair and yanking his head back painfully. " _Fight me_."

"What?" America choked.

Russia's disappointment was clear. "You truly are an idiot."

America flinched.

Russia's eyes hardened, reminding him of the coldest winter. "You fight well enough when you think you face an enemy. But you let allies walk all over you. It is a shame you cannot learn."

With that, he shoved America to the floor and locked the door.

XXXXXXX

Russia adjusted his sleeves as he walked to the door, unlocking it. He spoke not a word, but his disappointment was as clear as the bruises on America's skin. He stayed where he lay long after Russia's footsteps retreated, staring blankly at the wall that was an exact copy of the one in his hotel room. Vale was noticeably silent after the long barrage of obscenities and threats she'd screamed at Russia and America both. The former for what he had done, and the latter for not trying to stop him.

Even America could no longer delude himself into thinking Russia was 'helping' him. He curled up as tightly as he could, ignoring his aches and pains as shame and the echoes of Russia's touches clung to his skin like a slimy cloud.

_I'm pathetic._

" _Maybe."_  Vale said tiredly, having spent all her energy screaming earlier.

America barely heard her. His gaze never drifted from the wall.  _I didn't try fighting. I'm letting Russia use me as a punching bag._

" _Why?"_  A hint of her anger returned.  _"You know you can obliterate him._ "

America thought about it, staring at the wall. He remembered watching his friends panic as his flames devoured Kuroyuri—

_I don't know why._

" _I think you do."_  Vale said harshly.

America's stomach twisted with guilt. He remembered blasting England into a tree—

_Maybe._

"… _You know they won't begrudge you for defending yourself, right?"_

_I know. But…_

He remembered struggling frantically, crackling with flames and electricity as Canada held him down and England looming ominously in the background—

… _I don't want them to worry._

" _That excuse is bullshit and you know it."_  Vale snapped.  _"You're being an idiot. Kick Russia's ass, tell them why, and he'll get sent home and you won't have to worry anymore."_

A shudder passed through America.  _I don't want them to leave me,_  he thought.

" _Why would they leave you?"_  Vale asked, perplexed.

America did not reply.

Vale growled.  _"And you say_ _ **I**_ _have trust issues? Even I wouldn't sit there and let my so-called 'friend' shove me around like a battered housewife. You know what I think? I think you're letting him do it because you're a damn hypocrite who's hoping he'll kill you so you can escape your miserable existence."_

_That's not true,_  America thought truthfully, too tired to be angry.

" _Oh_ _ **really**_ _?"_  Vale sneered.  _"It doesn't seem that way. After all that talk of not giving up, you're doing a swell job enjoying life, now aren't you?"_

America gritted his teeth. _If I wanted to die I wouldn't have Russia kill me._

" _Right."_  she said flatly.  _"Then please, explain why you've become a masochist."_

America ignored that last comment.  _I don't want to hurt him._

" _He's hurting_ _ **you**_ _."_

_That doesn't mean I have to hurt him back._

A shadow fell across the wall in front of him. He might have jumped if he did not recognize the distinct silhouette of an off-center ponytail. As it was, he hastily sat up and wiped at his face, hoping most signs of human hands were gone. Weiss stood precisely in the doorway, lingering under the frame. Even when America turned to her, she did not approach. She simply stared at him with wide blue eyes. He did not blame her. Excuses ran through his mind but he could not voice them until she opened her mouth.

"I tripped." he blurted.

Weiss slowly shook her head. "I was outside." she said softly.

America was about to made a deflective comment when he registered her uncomfortable tone. She had been outside long enough to hear what happened. America avoided her eyes and pulled at his collar, hopefully hiding some of the lingering marks.

"I told you, he's just trying to help me toughen up." he mumbled.

Weiss did not blink. "I don't believe you.  _You_  don't believe yourself either."

Numbness swept through America and he could not muster the ability to care. "I'm guessing I took long enough that the others are in a panic?" he asked, pointedly changing the topic.

Weiss allowed him to. That was nice of her. "Not yet. I was about to get coffee. Our room only has decaf."

America laughed. It came out a little too bitter. "We had that problem too."

They stood in awkward silence.

America nervously wiped at his chin. "How bad do I look?"

"Dreadful." Weiss said flatly.

America kept his expression blank. "A Grimm attack on some distant town can do that to a guy."

Weiss's teeth clenched audibly. "Alfred—"

"I can handle myself." America interrupted. "Ivan is  _my_  problem. I will deal with it."

Blue eyes pierced him. "Then why haven't you?"

_**I don't want to hurt him** _ _._

America did not voice the thought, and kept it hidden from Vale. There were more important things to worry about than Russia being Russia and now was the perfect time to share them.

As the silence stretched on, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um. Could you walk with me back to my room?"

"Of course." Weiss said instantly. "I can get coffee later."

They headed back to his room. It took America embarrassingly long to realize she probably thought he wanted her company for security. It did not matter. She'd know the real reason once they reached a more secure location.

America entered the room first and became the center of attention in an instant. Wonderful. Upon spotting his bruised face, Canada and England rushed up to him while Penny lingered back and scanned the area for threats.

"What happened?" England demanded. He carefully cupped America's cheek but even his soft touch was painful.

America hid a wince. "Vale. The usual Grimm stuff."

Weiss shot him a look but did not reveal his lie. England's expression grew stormy. Canada had a similarly murderous look on his face, but the way his eyes iced over worried America more than England's anger ever could. Did he know America was lying? America ignored that possibility— potentially a big mistake— and made sure the door was shut behind Weiss before speaking.

"I need to tell you something but don't freak out, okay?"

Canada's expression sharpened.

America avoided looking at his bothers after that. "I think Ozpin hurt Vale—  _Arthur,_   _no!_ "

America blocked the door before England could do more than step menacingly towards it. He kept a careful eye on his brother's glowing staff— and more importantly his glowing skin.

"Let me explain." he begged.

England's lips twisted into a snarl.

Canada put a restraining hand on their brother's arm. "Please do."

America fiddled with Cobalt Striker, glancing at the thin walls nervously. "I don't have any solid evidence but I think Ozpin has forced Vale to keep his secrets. She can't talk about him."

"He used the Relic of Choice to silence her?" Canada gasped, voicing America's first fear.

"Possibly." America whispered.  _Vale, you can say I'm wrong at any time._

She said nothing.

_Are you staying quiet because that's the truth?_

Vale did not say a word. Her misery jabbed at his mind.

America sighed.  _Thought so._ He grimaced. "Regardless of whether it was Ozpin or not, something is keeping Vale from telling me things about him."

"Professor Ozpin wouldn't do that." Weiss said faintly. Her shaky tone was so strained that even England could not begrudge her for her disbelief.

"Maybe  _Professor_  Ozpin wouldn't." Canada said diplomatically. "But  _Ozpin_  is thousands of years old. His… morals might have been different in the past."

_When did this happen, Vale?_  America thought.

" _Can't."_  she choked like she was being strangled.

America winced.  _It's okay. Don't stress abut it._  "Vale can't give me a timeline."

"So there's definitely something fishy going on." Australia said glumly.

"I cannot find a connection between fish and this topic but perhaps dropping Ozpin in the ocean would be a wise strategy." Penny said stoically.

America was surprised she did not say he should be terminated with extreme prejudice.

"Terminating him would only make him resurrect, which may result in him returning in a more powerful form or possessing one of our close allies." Penny continued.

_Ah._  That explained her… restraint.

"I wanted to ditch him here but he shielded our ride and we might need him to reach the Relic of Choice." America said unhappily.

"Relic be damned." England snarled. "We already know Ozpin is untrustworthy and this cinches it. He may have used a Relic, or he may have  _cursed_  Vale to silence. Either way, we're better off without him."

"We don't know if Ozpin did that to Vale." Weiss protested desperately. "Maybe he's being framed so we mistrust him?"

"Maybe." America acknowledged. "But I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"We've already known we're doomed if Ozpin thinks our sacrifice is worth it." Canada said softly.

America nodded in reluctant agreement. "Yeah." He rubbed his aching forehead. "Weiss, could you warn the others? If I remember something or Vale finds a loophole and I say we need to run, I'd rather have everyone know why."

"I understand." Weiss said heavily. She made to leave but paused by the door, placing a hand on America's arm. "We won't let him hurt you."

America gripped her forearm in return. "And we won't let him hurt you."

Weiss nodded sharply and left, closing the door gently behind her. America looked to Canada but his twin was heading to the door, shouldering Maple Frost as he went.

"I'll be right back." he said briefly and walked out.

America wondered if he should be worried. He dismissed the idea. Arthur was the brother he had to keep an eye on and hold back. Mattie did not pick fights. He considered his bloody shirt and grimaced.

"Since there's no jerk in the bathroom I'm going to shower." he told his remaining roommates.

America stuck out a foot and tripped Australia before he could dash into the bathroom. America casually stepped over the fallen nation and shut the door behind him.

"Arse!" Australia shouted.

"You started it." America called back. He paused. "Penny? Could you guard the door?"

"I accept this mission." Penny said seriously.

Metal whirred and clunked.

"Whoa! He's  _joking!_ " Australia yelped. " _Put away the knives_."

"I am also, 'joking'." Penny claimed.

America chuckled. He turned on the water, removed his coat, stripped off his bloody shirt, and stepped into the stream, watching red trickle down the drain.

XXXXXXX

"Why are we surprised?"

That was the first thing Yang said once Weiss finished telling her teammates, Winter, Pyrrha, and Nora what she had learned. Resigned faces looked back at the former heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, and Weiss busily brushed a lock of hair away from her face, delaying when she had to answer. In the end, the burden was taken from her, for Pyrrha sighed wearily.

"Yang is right. We already knew about Ozpin's…  _habits_."

"This isn't a habit. It's  _super-villainy._ " Nora proclaimed.

Weiss winced. "I would not go that far. We do not know for certain whether Ozpin put a geas on Vale to keep her quiet. It might be a frame-up to divide our forces."

"If someone else did it, it's awfully convenient for him." Blake said bluntly. "He doesn't like to give answers, and the only other person who can has been cursed to silence."

"We don't know if it's a curse." Ruby protested, voice strained.

Weiss sympathized with her leader. She still had trouble accepting that the kind Headmaster who assisted her team so many times had enough skeletons in his closet to fill a graveyard three times over. She herself also still had trouble accepting the man was thousands of years old, which gave him plenty of time to do morally-reprehensible things and have a change of heart.

She'd like to think he had a change of heart.

She'd like to believe they could trust him at all.

But with every piece of new information, that pool of trust was becoming smaller and smaller. They could barely step in the puddle now.

"Give me a reason why we shouldn't bust Ozpin's shield and hightail it out of here?" Yang demanded. "Preferably  _without_  him?"

"Oscar would get left behind too." Ruby said.

Yang's metal hand creaked as she clenched it. "No offense to Oscar, but his happiness is kinda less important than making sure our so-called  _leader_  isn't about to throw our lives away."

"Alfred mentioned we might need Ozpin to reach the Relic of Choice." Weiss reminded her reluctantly.

Yang's hands fell to her sides. " _Crap_."

Winter sighed. Weiss looked to her older sister hopefully, desperate for any type of input she might have, but if she hoped for a groundbreaking revelation, she was sorely disappointed.

"We cannot leave Ozpin behind. He may be untrustworthy, but his knowledge of our enemy is valuable." Winter said bluntly.

"When he chooses to share it." Nora muttered.

Winter acknowledged her comment with an inclination of her head. "However, since his leadership and motives are… questionable, we must be prepared to act should something that threatens our unit comes to light."

"You mean we should be ready to fight him?" Blake asked.

Ruby winced.

Yang raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Winter. And here I thought you'd disapprove of rebellion."

Winter sniffed. "Please. Good leaders do not act as Ozpin has. To see the only people on your side as untrustworthy at best and expendable at worst is an egregious flaw in his tactics."

"No wonder he's failed so many times." Nora muttered.

" _Nora_." Pyrrha chided her teammate.

The orange-haired girl crossed her arms, unrepentant. "What? It makes sense."

"I agree." Blake said cautiously. "When people try the same tactics over and over and fail, sometimes they become stuck in their habits and do not think to adapt." She hesitated, gaze dropping to the floor. "People can also make mistakes. Ozpin may be an old soul, but he is still human."

" _Is_  he?" Nora muttered.

Weiss tuned the continuing conversation out, trying to sort out her own thoughts. It was nearly impossible with her own churning emotions and guilt. Guilt which did not completely have to do with Ozpin and his past actions.

Weiss was always one of the earliest risers out of the girls, and had taken it upon herself to get coffee for their room. Decaf was a crime against humanity, so she sought to find appropriate drinks in the lobby.

Instead, as she had passed by one of the many closed doors, she heard the sounds of flesh striking flesh, and muffled grunts of pain that were undeniably Alfred's. And yet she had remained where she was, standing frozen outside the doorway as she realized what was going on. She'd even fled down the hall when she heard the door unlock, and only gathered the resolve to return several minutes later.

What kind of Huntress— what kind of  _friend_ — was she, that she stood by and did  _nothing_  while her friend was in trouble?

Weiss knew. She knew what, how, who, and why.

Knowing did not make her feel better.

She lowered her head into her hands, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Yang noticed the move. "Is something else bothering you, Weiss-cream?"

_I'm a coward._  "No." Weiss claimed. "Just a headache. I forgot our coffee."

"I'll go get it." Pyrrha offered, rising from her seat. "You've done enough."

Weiss recognized her offer to take a break— and avoid running into certain people in the hallway— and accepted it with grace. "Thank you."

Pyrrha left the room, but Weiss could feel her teammates' eyes on her. She did not acknowledge them. She loved them dearly and knew they would support her in every way, but these problems were hers to bear alone.

XXXXXXX

Even as Canada made his way down the hall of the hotel, he was not sure what he intended to do. It was not until he knocked on the door to Room 203 and Russia opened it that he made a decision he was unaware he ever considered making. Subtlety be damned. Canada grabbed Russia's arm and yanked him into the hall. Russia was bigger and stronger than him but Canada managed to slam him into the opposite wall, pinning him there with ice-covered hands.

"I told you to leave Al alone." he snarled, barely recognizing his own voice.

Russia smiled, and ice crackled onto his coat. The large nation hardly noticed. "I didn't listen."

It was almost funny that Canada once feared this nation. Now he felt nothing towards him but disgust and rage. He released Russia's coat, stepping back, and threw a ball of ice at him. It struck Russia directly in the center of his chest and he hit the wall, lips parted in a pained gasp as he slid down the wall. Canada's rage became horror, but not because of what he had done, but because of what he did  _not_  do.

Russia chuckled lowly, breathlessly, and looked up at Canada. "Did you expect me to leave?" He wheezed. "Hmm? Did you expect to hit my little necklace?"

Canada felt his expression go blank.

Russia grinned mockingly. "If you wanted to send me back to Earth, you shouldn't have warned me beforehand. It was so nice of you to. It allowed me to throw away that little trinket from Arthur before you could use it against me."

Canada's mouth went dry. He barely noticed Japan and France at his shoulders. "You  _threw your necklace away?_ " he demanded. "Where?"

Russia shrugged. "Somewhere in this town. Or the woods. I didn't bother to keep track. Arthur is so certain others cannot use it, so I do not see the problem." His eyes glinted. "I do not like leaving weaknesses to be exploited. So if you want me to go home, you will have to go with me."

"You..." Canada choked, unable to force more words past the anger clogging his throat.

Russia stood up, casually brushing the frost from his coat. "Now if you will excuse me, I have to pack my things. The time to check out of this hotel is approaching, and we need to continue our journey."

He brushed between Canada and France, sending the latter nation staggering, but Canada barely twitched. He watched stonily as Russia shut the door to his room behind him before turning back to the opposite wall as he realized what Russia had done.

Too angry with Russia and himself to voice his rage, Canada punched the wall, leaving a layer of ice over the paint.

XXXXXXX

Oscar was not the most sociable person. He often preferred books to people and kept to himself in order to not be a bother. But sometimes he wondered if he had social anxiety that caused him to scrutinize every interaction and lack of interaction he had with others and wonder what he did wrong. That habit haunted him as he slowly packed his bag in preparation to leave Woodland.

Jaune and Ren had been dragged away by Nora a couple minutes ago and Sterlyn was off doing… whatever he did when he wasn't flying, leaving Oscar with only his thoughts for company. It may be his possible social anxiety talking but he could not shake the feeling he had done something wrong. Nora had smiled at him as she dragged Jaune and Ren away but it had seemed… off. Like her heart was not really in it. Had something happened? If it did, why didn't she say anything?

" _It is most likely something within their team,"_  Ozpin reassured him.

Oscar winced at the gentle rebuke but admitted Ozpin was probably right. Maybe it was a team thing. Or maybe Pyrrha wanted her boyfriend for something and Nora just grabbed Ren because why not? Oscar did not have much experience with teams and none with dating so how was he to know? He did not have much experience with friendships or relationships of any kind.

A tap on the door distracted him from his loneliness and he saw Arthur in the doorway. His back straightened instinctively— Arthur just had the kind of aura that snapped "stop slouching, git"— and smiled nervously.

"A-Arthur. Hi."

Arthur's severe expression did not waver. "Hello, Oscar. Packing up, I see?"

Oscar had the feeling he asked more out of courtesy than interest. He nodded anyway. "Yeah. We're leaving soon. As you know. I mean, of course you know. You're one of the ones who said we should leave today and we all agreed on it yesterday but you know that too—" He cut himself off, cheeks burning.

Arthur's expression did not soften. "Oscar, I must speak with Ozpin."

Oscar cringed, partly because he expected the demand, but mostly because of Arthur's tone. He… did  _not_  sound happy. Not at all. "Um. Okay?"  _What did you do?_

" _I don't know."_  Ozpin said, puzzled.  _"Maybe… Ah. Perhaps I do."_

Oscar closed his eyes and let Ozpin take his place. Control of his body slipped away, leaving him with only his senses to connect him with the world, and Ozpin opened golden eyes.

"Arthur, if this is about Oscar's request to learn magic from you, then I fear that I cannot—"

"This is not about that." Arthur hissed. "What did you do to Vale?"

Ozpin stiffened. He reigned in his emotions before Oscar could catch more than a flash of anger. "Excuse me?"

"Vale is  _afraid_  of you." Arthur hissed. "My brother claims that you did something to stop her from speaking about her past with you."

Ozpin revealed none of his thoughts on his face or in his mind. "Is that what Alfred believes?"

Arthur's fist clenched and Oscar saw him visibly resist the urge to punch Ozpin. He thanked the irate man for not taking out his anger on his body. "So something  _did_  happen. You're deflection betrays you. You'd deny it if there was nothing to his claims."

Ozpin's teeth clenched. Oscar heard them scrape against each other. "You should know better than to believe Vale. She is rather cynical and begrudging, you might say. I assure you, she is merely being stubborn. Vale and I had a… disagreement in the past. In the  _distant_  past. I would appreciate it if you did not accost me with accusations for things that happened decades ago as if they are affecting things now."

"They  _are_  affecting things now." Arthur snarled. "All you past actions and mistakes have consequences. As an immortal, you clearly know this. And so do I." Arthur crossed his arms, glaring down at Ozpin. "Do we need you to reach Beacon's Vault?"

Ozpin's eyes narrowed and he stared stonily at Arthur. "Yes."

Arthur's lip curled. "I don't think I believe you. What is your plan once America unlocks the Relic of Choice?"

Ozpin's ire jabbed at Oscar's mind like knives. The former headmaster exhaled and forced it away. "I know I tend to not be transparent, Arthur. But it is best that I keep certain answers to myself. Sharing them will only divide our forces, and that will play directly into Salem's hands."

"Let me guess." Arthur spat. "You fear one of us will turn on the group, or maybe Salem will pinch the information from our minds?" His tone was caustically sarcastic.

"Yes." Ozpin stated.

Arthur slowly shook his head, eyes never straying from Ozpin's face. "I don't trust you. You bury your past and put on the persona of a good man, but the shadows inside you are deeper than the graves you left in your wake. So let me warn you now..." He leaned forward, skin flickering with a violent glow that darkened his emerald green irises to near-black. "If you think that you can lose here and continue this war on Earth, you are  _sorely_  mistaken. And if you sacrifice my brothers, my friends, or any of these children in your war, I  _will_  find a way to destroy you, curse be damned."

Oscar gasped.

Ozpin was unmoved. "I thought you were above idle threats, Mister Kirkland."

Arthur laughed, sharp and harsh. "I am not threatening. I'm  _promising_. Have you ever heard of a nuclear weapon? No, not that. How about a  _bioweapon_? America has a friend who might be able to make a special one attuned just to  _your_  Aura."

Ozpin stiffened. Oscar saw a brief glimpse of James Ironwood as he shared some of Atlas's data on Earth's technological advancements and weaponry to the other members of Ozpin's faction.

Arthur never looked colder. "If you want to stop Salem so badly that you'll sacrifice thousands of lives, I'm sure Earth will be happy to stop her for you. In fact, I think I know some people who can safely clear out a good portion of Remnant before blasting the area with a targeted assault; You and Salem with it. Or, like I said, an air-based bioweapon attuned to your Aura signatures might suffice."

"You can't do that." Ozpin said, disbelieving.

Arthur inclined his head. "Maybe not me, but those on Earth  _will_  consider it if the Grimm become too big of a threat. Or if  _you_  think you can use Earth as another new solution. Think about that before you get any ideas about sacrificing us in  _your_  war." He turned to the door but paused, briefly looking back. "I'm sorry you're caught in the middle of this, Oscar. I cannot give you any advice other than this:  _don't trust the voice in your head_."

With that, he left.


	17. Step by Step

Despite what some countries believed, Finland was a strong nation. Cheerfulness and kindness did not equal weakness, as many nations had discovered time and time again in the past. In fact, cheer and kindness could hide the most unyielding steel, again as many nations had discovered when they chose to foolishly test the waters.

Indeed, Finland was strong, cheerful, and kind.

Yet even he had his limits.

Mostly when it came to the less-fun and more tedious side of being a nation.

Finland glared miserably at the email he was trying and failing to read. It was one of many from his boss, all pertaining to the paperwork and duties he needed to catch up on since he was away from home. Just because the personifications were trying to save the world from Grimm, did not mean they were free from the dull mundane slog of politics and forms.

Finland might be tempted to join Denmark in his offer of alcohol if he was not already in dangerously hot water with his boss. It was nothing too big compared to what some personifications had pulled in the past but it was enough that he wanted to tread carefully for a while and do his paperwork on time like a good personification. He had already gotten an earful for forgetting his phone, which Sealand had used to figure out there were Grimm in China before dragging a few of his fellow micronations there.

Finland loved the cheerful young boy dearly, but he had gotten the scolding of his life for pulling that little stunt. No Aura, no weapons, not telling anyone where he was going— What was he  _thinking?!_  Once Finland had said his piece, Sweden had stepped in to simply tell Sealand that he was grounded. That primarily meant no running off on his own or leaving America's house without permission.

_Ever._

For a  _very_  long time— and for a personification, that could indeed be very long.

Compared to what could have happened, Sealand had gotten off lightly. He still failed to understand how dangerous the Grimm were and why going out to fight them in order to be recognized as a nation was a terrible idea. Even Austria and Lithuania's injuries had failed to smother that desire, and Finland could only hope Wy would keep Sealand from sneaking out for another adventure.

Finland could not bear to think what would happen if the Grimm got hold of the child.

He shook those dark thoughts away and squinted at his screen, wondering if he had somehow translated his email into another language by accident. Try as he might, he could not make head nor tails of it. The words jumbled together or swirled around each other, and Finland could feel a headache building behind his eyes. Even his ears were ringing loudly—

The sound of pounding footsteps made Finland realize that no, it was not his ears ringing. It was his phone. He logged out of his email and grabbed his rifle, hurrying to the door. He nearly ran into Germany outside.

"Where?" was his first question as he walked beside Germany down the hall.

The other nations of AGATE joined them, some checking their weapons as they went.

"Ukraine." Germany said briefly.

Finland's steps slowed. "The others are closer. They would reach the site before us."

Germany's expression grew pinched.

"Hey, Germany!" Denmark dashed up, practically vibrating with excitement. "Has our agent friend called? What do we have this time?"

"He hasn't called." Germany said, just as his phone rang. He answered and held it up to his ear. "Seychelles."

Finland heard the nation's voice crackle through the phone.  _"Germany, we're already en route."_

Germany's brow grew wrinkled. "How is Ukraine?"

" _She's fine. A little nervous, but okay."_  Seychelles said.  _"The others are a bit nervous too. Not India, of course. Or Belarus. She's… Belarus after all."_  She sighed.  _"It's not like you to avoid things. Just say what you're thinking."_

Germany grimaced. "This is your first mission. Are you sure you can handle this?"

Denmark opened his mouth. Norway materialized out of nowhere and clamped a hand over Denmark's mouth to keep him quiet.

" _We'll be fine. Besides, we both know this team is closer."_ Her voice grew firm. _"We have activated Auras and went through the same Grimm simulations your team did."_

"Simulations cannot replicate a real battle with those beasts." Finland murmured.

" _We know."_ Seychelles said, and Finland belatedly realized Germany's phone must be on speakerphone.  _"But we can handle this. We'll be fine."_

Hesitation flashed briefly across Germany's face before he nodded. "Alright. Send an alert if you need us."

" _Will do."_ She hung up.

Germany slowly put his phone back into his pocket and raised his voice. "Everyone, the other team is handling this one!"

"Aww." Spain said, drooping in disappointment. Only a quick dive from Lithuania stopped his axe from embedding itself in America's floor.

Denmark finally succeeded in pulling Norway's hand away from his mouth. "Oh, come on! Why do they get to do it?"

"They're closer." Norway said.

"And they should have a chance to fight." Finland added.

Spain brightened and slung an arm over Denmark's shoulders. "Yeah. They should have a chance."

Denmark sighed.

"So… we're not heading out, then?" Lithuania asked.

Finland could not help but look him over even though he logically knew any signs of his injuries would be long gone.

"No." Germany said bluntly. "Go back to what you were doing."

Some of the nations hurried away happily while a few slogged their way back to their rooms like they were trudging through mud and rain. Germany ignored them— and the disappointed pouts shot his way— and turned to Finland.

"If you do not mind, I would like you to accompany me to take food to the Atlas soldier again."

Finland thought of the hundreds of unread emails he still had to go through. He peeked into his room to see Americat sitting on his keyboard. The cat stared at him intently and meowed a challenge. Finland sighed and decided to leave that particular battle for a later time.

"Of course."

He followed Germany to the kitchen, then down to the soldier's room. It was a routine they always performed, sometimes with China but also without— since the ancient nation often had to rein in his fellow Asians and stop Hong Kong from blowing up the house— though not at the same times every day.

'Paranoid' and 'precautionary' were synonymous in this case and they did not want to give the soldier a schedule to exploit. Though in Finland's private opinion, he did not think the man would try. Although he rarely spoke and refused to give any information about himself, he did not glare at the nations or scream that they were filth that needed to die. That was a good sign in Finland's book that the man could be reasoned with.

They paused outside the doors, where Switzerland and Romania were standing guard. The trigger-happy nation inclined his head, unsurprised by their appearance.

"I heard the racket from upstairs." he said as a greeting. "Are you heading out?"

"The other team is handling this one." Germany explained briefly.

Switzerland must have no problem with that, for he merely inclined his head.

"You heard us from all the way down here?" Finland asked curiously.

Switzerland rolled his eyes. "You're louder than a stampede of elephants."

"Well, the elephants are staying here this time." Finland said. He reached for the door and paused, glancing at Germany. "Do you really think the others can handle it? What if there's a Grimm we've never heard of like that Tiger?"

Germany's expression smoothed out into a blank mask. "They will be fine."

Finland dearly hoped so. He opened the door and passed through, leaving Germany outside. Both knew Finland could take care of himself, and the stern nation tended to make the soldier less at ease.

That was why Finland smiled brightly even though he knew it would not be returned. "Hello, soldier. I brought dinner."

The soldier was sitting in the chair, one arm hanging over his knee. He grunted vaguely and continued contemplating his knee as Finland approached, setting his meal on the table.

"Er, I'm not sure if you have these on Remnant but it's a sandwich." Finland said, used to explaining meals to the man in China's absence. "It has meat and cheese and—"

"I know what a sandwich is." the soldier said quietly.

Finland smiled. "Oh, good. I guess putting meat between two slices of bread is an inter-world idea, huh?"

The soldier did not reply to him. He did not so much as look his way. Finland decided not to press him and turned towards the door with the intent to leave. He knew they may have to eventually, but although he had a kind, young face, Finland  _was_  a nation. He could be patient, and he could wait until the time seemed right to demand anything from the soldier. Humans were a lot more impatient, after all.

"Byakko."

Finland jumped and looked to the soldier. "Huh?"

The soldier slowly lifted his head, meeting Finland's eyes. "The Grimm Tiger is called a 'Byakko'."

Finland slowly sat down in the available chair, gripping his pant legs with sweaty palms. "Could you tell me more about the Byakko? We had no idea it  _existed_  so we were unprepared..."

The soldier hesitated. His indecision vanished behind a stoic mask. "You're fighting the Grimm on this world, aren't you?"

"Yes, we're fighting the Grimm." Finland admitted. He took a leap, dearly hoping Germany would not glower at him through the wall. "Grimm that were sent here with Atlas technology."

Rather than grow defensive, the soldier winced, averting his gaze. "The Atlas military had nothing to do with that." He did not sound angry, only tired. And maybe ashamed?

"I believe you." Finland said honestly. "But that does not change how it was Atlas technology that brought them to our home." He gripped the edge of his chair, fingers going white. "We hardly know anything about these creatures. Their habits, their abilities, how to track them… we barely have  _any_  information. If we'd known about the Byakko's abilities, Tolys and Roderich might not have gotten hurt." He bit his lip. "So many people wouldn't be dead."

The soldier's hand clenched around his knee.

Finland could not feel guilty. Not when he spoke the truth. " _Please_ , any information you give us about the Grimm may help save innocent lives."

His gaze locked with the soldier's and Finland knew the man saw nothing but genuineness there.

The soldier looked away first. "Alright. I'll tell you about the more dangerous Grimm you might encounter."

Finland smiled. "Thank you."

They did not know anything about the soldier, not even his name. They did not know his mission, his past, or his motives for coming to Earth. They could not yet ask the questions they needed to without any chance of a relatively peaceful solution between the nations and this man being discarded. But Finland liked to think they were getting there.

XXXXXXX

_Well_ , Ruby thought.  _This isn't awkward at all._

She sat uncomfortably in the corner of the cargo hold, already missing the open air of Woodland. Not just for the food and warm bed, but the lack of tension in the air. It was like when Blake and Weiss had an argument. But  _worse_. Some of her companions were better at not-staring at Oscar than others, while those others were not nearly as subtle. Oscar had retreated to a corner and buried his nose in a book but Ruby had to question how long it would take for Ozpin to wonder why everyone was eyeing him like a sleeping Grimm. Yet that was not even the worst of the tension.

_Matthew_  of all people was currently trying to murder Ivan with his eyes while the tall man smirked back. Even from a distance, Ruby could feel the animosity crackling between them. It was like being stuck in a freezer. In a snowstorm. Between two glaciers. In  _Solitas_.

It was uncomfortable.

It was unnerving.

It was probably very, very bad and would cause them  _many_  problems.

_We are going to attract_ _**so** _ _many Grimm._

Ruby had no idea how to stop it. She could not stand up and demand that everyone lighten up and hug it out. Well, she  _could_  but her friends might grow more dour if she tried. Surely Ozpin's possible untrustworthy— as in the 'may have put a curse on Vale' type of untrustworthy— nature did not affect them that badly? Ruby looked from Arthur to Blake to Weiss to Jaune— all of whom were in the 'unsubtle' category of  _totally_ -not-staring-at-Oscar— then from Matthew to Ivan, and held back a sigh.

At least Alfred was not moody, unlike  _some_  people. He had bounced right back to his cheerful self after leaving Woodland. In fact, he seemed to be the only one who was happy to be back on the airship. He was not going around making jokes and beaming at people but he was obviously happier here than in Woodland. He mostly stayed with his glaring twin, Kiku, and Penny— though it may be more accurate to say Penny stayed with him. She gave no more explanation than a simple "I have been too lenient in my guarding of you. That error will not be repeated." and had refused to leave his side ever since. Now that Ruby thought about it, even Penny seemed twitchier than usual. 'Twitchy' and 'trigger-happy robot' were  _not_  a good combination.

_We are alone, flying over a dense forest filled with Grimm, and everyone is nervous and uncomfortable and negative and we are in an airship with_ _**no** _ _weapons—_

"Have you named your weapons?" Ruby blurted.

Everyone turned to stare and her cheeks warmed.

" _Have_  you named your weapons?" Alfred asked, coming to her rescue. He bounced in place, beaming with excitement. "Tell me their names! Tell me!"

Lovino scowled. "I didn't name my stupid weapon."

Alfred's smile faltered. It returned too quickly for Ruby to say she had not imagined it falling.

"Dude, you have to name your weapon." Alfred said passionately.

"Do not." Lovino groused.

"Do too."

"Do  _not_."

"Do too." Ruby said instinctively.

Lovino scowled her way, realized who he was glaring at, and thought better of it.

"I have named mine." Ivan shared cheerfully. He pulled out his yellow axe and caressed its handle lovingly. "Meet Sunflower."

"Why not name her in your language?" Pyrrha asked curiously.

Ivan smiled. "Because then Alfred would intentionally butcher the pronunciation."

Alfred pouted. "I would not."

Ivan eyed him and he tensed, ducking his head.

"What about the rest of you?" Yang asked.

Francis laid a hand on the hilt of his dark blue saber. "Trouvère." he decided.

Arthur scoffed. "Isn't that a word for old poet composers from your country?"

Francis beamed. "Arthur, you know me so well!"

He hugged Arthur, who hissed and clawed at him like an angry cat. Penny stood up and peeled Francis off, holding him in the air by his waist. Francis squeaked but dare not move as his feet left the ground. Ruby had to giggle upon seeing the smaller girl lift the fully-grown man above her head like they were in a figure skating competition.

Arthur straightened his coat. "Thank you, Penny."

"Hugs should only be given when they are wanted." she said seriously.

She dropped Francis and he laid dramatically on the ground and sulked...  _dramatically_. Complete with a sorrowful arm over his eyes. He did not even say anything but Arthur still looked to the sky for patience.

"What about you, Kiku?" Alfred asked.

"I shall call my weapon Hanasaka." Kiku intoned calmly.

The word meant nothing to Ruby, but Alfred nodded thoughtfully. "Cool."

"I haven't thought of a name." Jett interjected. He twirled his daggers between his fingers before clipping them back into their boomerang form. He frowned at the tan weapons and perked up. "I've got it. Rebound Roo!"

"...No." Arthur said flatly.

Jett pouted. "You're no fun. How about Emu Slayer?"

Matthew snorted and quickly covered his mouth.

Arthur's eye twitched. " _No_."

"It's my weapon. I can call it what I want." Jett grumbled. He began pacing back and forth as he continued muttering to himself. "Maybe Wolf Stabber..."

" _No_." Arthur groaned.

"What about you, Oscar?" Alfred interjected excitedly.

The boy jumped, nearly dropping his book. He looked around comically and pointed at himself.

Alfred chuckled. "Unless there is another Oscar here I don't know about,  _yes_ , I'm talking to you."

Oscar's cheeks turned pink. He glanced down at Ozpin's cane at his hip but did not touch it. "Um. This is Ozpin's weapon so it probably already has a name."

Ruby shifted uncomfortably at his words, not really sure why. It was probably his soft tone...

"Meh. It's yours now." Alfred said with a shrug. "Name it what you want." He paused thoughtfully, tapping his chin and brightened. "Or I could totally make you a custom weapon like these guys!" His eyes burned with a gleeful— almost crazed— energy. "You should have something lightweight since you rely on speed more than strength. Maybe something with Lightning Dust. That'll shock your enemies."

Yang opened her mouth but Jaune clapped a hand over it, saving them all from a horrible pun off.

Oscar chuckled, glancing up at Alfred. His gaze dropped again and remained locked on his book but his eyes did not move along the page. "Lightning is a bit too destructive for me."

Alfred nodded. "Maybe Wind Dust then."

"That sounds cool..." Oscar admitted.

"Don't give Alfred an excuse." Matthew begged blandly. Alfred pouted and jabbed his twin in the side, making him squeak and curl up.

Alfred leaned on his brother like he was the arm of a chair— ignoring his irate "Get off!"— and frowned absently. "I guess we don't have materials right now but if you get any ideas, tell me."

"Okay." Oscar agreed. He fiddled with the pages of his book. "Thanks."

" _Oh!_ " Jett brightened. "I've got it! How about… Boomer- _Bang_?" He held up his pistols with a grin.

"I approve." Yang said while fending off Jaune's hand.

Alfred nodded enthusiastically.

" _ **No**_." Everyone else moaned.

Jett huffed. Yang opened her mouth again.

"Feliciano?" Ruby asked before her sister could encourage him.

The Italian glanced at his green sword uncertainly. "I haven't thought of a name either..."

"It's not hard." Nora encouraged.

Feliciano shrugged helplessly. Lovino grunted.

"Think about something significant to you." Pyrrha offered, looking from him to Lovino.

Alfred also looked to Lovino, widening his eyes in a hopeful way. Ruby mentally applauded his use of the puppy-dog eyes, knowing that— as an older sibling— Lovino was likely horribly susceptible to them.

Lovino scowled on cue, glaring at his orange weapon with distaste. "Gladiolus.  _Happy_?"

"Yes." Alfred said cheerily.

Feliciano was not so easily convinced. He held his weapon awkwardly, lips pressed together.

"It doesn't have to be significant." Pyrrha amended.

"It can just sound cool." Nora added eagerly.

"Whirlwind of Death!" Jett exclaimed.

" _ **No**_."

Feliciano turned his sword over in his hands, sitting quietly as he thought. After a pause, he looked up. "Thyrus."

Lovino looked at him sharply.

"What's that mean?" Ruby asked curiously.

Feliciano shifted uncomfortably.

"It's a town." the older Italian said.

"It's also a folk tale." Feliciano mumbled.

"That's so cool!" Ruby gushed. "What's the story?"

Feliciano's cheeks reddened. "U-Um..."

"It's about a knight." Lovino said briskly.

"Like Jaune here." Yang teased, elbowing him in the side.

Blake eyed Feliciano thoughtfully. "Hm. I can't picture Feliciano as a knight."

Feliciano wilted.

"I think it's a lovely name." Weiss said sharply. "It suits the weapon and its wielder well."

"Of course." Blake amended quickly.

"You don't have to make me feel better. I know I'm not very knightly." Feliciano said.

Ruby cringed at the simple tone of his voice, as if he spoke only facts.

"That is untrue." Kiku said, dark eyes locked onto Feliciano. "As they say, you are my knight in shining armor."

"Daaawwww." Yang and Nora cooed.

Kiku remained stoic though the tips of his ears turned red.

Feliciano shook his head. "But I was scared the whole time."

"You cannot be brave without having fear." Kiku said solemnly.

"I agree. You're perfectly courageous." Weiss added.

Feliciano looked unconvinced.

"Just take the compliment." Lovino growled.

"Okay." Feliciano mumbled agreeably. He smiled widely. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Weiss said, while Kiku inclined his head.

The dark-haired man leaned back against the side of the cargo hold and rubbed his knee. Comprehension struck like a freight train and Ruby belatedly realized when and how Feliciano was Weiss and Kiku's 'knight'. She closed her eye and gripped the hem of her skirt, feeling the bite of her nails through the fabric. She remembered screams and pleading and blood and rage, all encompassed by a feral desire to  _destroy_  everything in front of her—

"Ruby Rose?"

Ruby's eye snapped open to see Penny's face mere inches from hers. She would like to claim she did not shriek and cling to Yang but that would be a lie. Her evil older sister had the gall to laugh at her reaction. Penny appeared unapologetic for giving Ruby a heart attack. She waited for Ruby to calm down, perfectly expressionless, but Ruby knew she was giggling inside.

"Penny, don't sneak up like that." Ruby wheezed once she got her breath back.

Penny remained unmoved. "Ruby Rose, would you please assist me in compiling a list of potential designations for use in identifying my armory?"

Ruby's brain went over the words, failed to interpret them, and promptly gave up. "Huh?"

"She's asking if you will help her name her weapons." Alfred translated helpfully.

"That is what I stated twenty seconds ago." Penny said.

Ruby nodded hesitantly. "Uh. Sure?"

"Thank you for agreeing to assist me, Ruby Rose." Penny stated. She grabbed Ruby's hand. "We shall continue this conversation by Alfred F. Jones."

She dragged Ruby across the ship to Alfred's side faster than Ruby could say "What?"

Alfred simply patted an empty spot next to him and Ruby sat down. Penny went to his other side and plopped to the floor in a perfect cross-legged position. She did not descend and put her legs into a pretzel. No, she crossed her legs while standing and let gravity do the rest, falling with a speed and force that would leave humans aching. But Penny was not human, or flesh and blood. Neither was her 'sister.'

"No offense to Ruby, but you did not have to bring her over here to talk." Alfred said, distracting Ruby from her thoughts. He truly was a hero.

"I took Ruby Rose to this position in order to optimize the compatibility of my missions." Penny said.

"What missions?" Ruby asked and instantly regretted it. She already knew the answer.

"To protect Alfred F. Jones and give proper designations to my weapons." Penny stated.

Alfred sighed. "Penny, you can protect me from five feet away."

"Negative." Penny disagreed.

Alfred grimaced, then sighed. "At least you're making friends."

Ruby shifted awkwardly. Penny's unblinking gaze pinned her and she froze.

"Are we friends, Ruby Rose?" she demanded.

"Yes." Ruby said before her brain could catch up to her mouth.

Penny did not smile. Her gaze did not soften. "Noted."

Ruby had to wonder what she was thinking. She shook her head and pushed those thoughts out of her mind. "So. Weapon names?"

"Affirmative." Penny intoned. "What are your suggestions?"

Ruby hummed vaguely and tapped her chin, looking to Alfred. His eyes were glazed and Ruby guessed he was talking to Vale. When had that become a normal conclusion? Anyway, Alfred was evidently leaving the topic to her. Weapons and their cool names  _were_  her expertise.

"Well, how about we start with things you like?"

Penny's backpack clicked and a sword hovered in front of her. She considered it solemnly and looked at Ruby. "Mashed Potatoes."

Matthew emitted a strangled choking sound.

Ruby struggled not to join him. "I don't think that fits."

"You are correct." Penny decided. "Mashed potatoes are not sharp, nor are they weapons." She paused. "Though if they are poisoned or enough is fed to a human that their stomach ruptures—"

"How about something else you like?" Ruby interrupted loudly.

Penny studied the sword again. "I like puppies."

Ruby beamed. "Great! That's—"

"Puppy Slayer."

Ruby smacked her forehead. "Penny,  _no_."

"Blightspore!" Jett shouted.

"No to you, too!" Ruby yelled back.

Jett blinked at her and her face turned red.

"Again, you are correct." Penny said before Ruby could die of humiliation. "Perhaps a more specific subject would be of assistance?"

Ruby frantically began for a topic that would not involve death. Hopefully. "Colors!" she blurted. She cleared her throat. "Start with a color."

Penny rotated her weapon, examining it from every angle. "My blades are silver, green, and black." she said. Her voice was notably toneless. Alfred looked up with a frown, but said nothing.

Ruby had the feeling she was missing something obvious. "Yeah. So you could call them Silverfire, or Razor Leaf or something."

"I get that reference!" Jett shouted.

Ruby stared at him. "What?"

Jett gaped at her before realization crossed his face. "Oh, right. You don't have Pokemon."

Ruby's brow furrowed. " _What?_ "

Jett was already muttering more "amazing" weapon names to himself.

Penny also ignored her confusion and mulled it over. "This golden accent around the hilt is comparable to a simple circular drawing of a sun." she mused. She ran through some more possibilities and nodded firmly. "Azure Sunshard."

Ruby's smile faltered. She double-checked the floating sword. "Um… there's no blue on your weapons."

"I am aware." Penny stated.

Ruby decided not to push that topic. "Azure Sunshard it is."

"Awesome name, Penny." Alfred praised.

Others voiced their agreement, while Jett pouted in the corner,

"Of course  _her_  name is okay while mine are awful." he muttered.

"They are kind of awful." Matthew said apologetically.

Jett huffed.

Penny's lips twitched. It was nowhere close to being a smile, but it was something. "Thank you for your assistance, Ruby."

Ruby noted the lack of her last name and her smile became a bit more real. "No problem. It's what friends do."

"...A staff would be cool."

Ruby barely heard Oscar's voice. The boy's already red cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson as they all looked at him. A smile stretched across Alfred's face and he rushed over to Oscar, plopping down next to him. Arthur twitched as if he wanted to stop him but held back, lips pinched. Penny looked similarly stiff, and her unblinking eyes never strayed from Oscar. Alfred seemed oblivious to them as he pulled a notebook out of his bag and opened it, pencil poised above the page.

"Tell me what you're thinking. Describe it as best you can." he commanded, grinning widely.

Oscar's lips twitched into a hesitant smile. "Um, maybe some type of spear that can shoot darts or Dust from the ends..."

Ruby half-listened to the conversation, her curiosity piqued by whatever weapon combination Oscar constructed in his mind.

"Leave them be." Matthew said softly, and it took her a second to realize he was not talking to her.

Matthew's hand laid lightly on Arthur's arm, and his violet gaze locked with his brother's green. Arthur did not look away and his posture remained stiff.

"He should not be so close to him." Arthur whispered.

"Since when has Alfred done what he 'should'?" Matthew murmured. "Oscar is fine."

"But Ozpin is  _right there._ " Arthur retorted softly.

Matthew grimaced and closed his eyes. "I  _know_  that. I know that the man who hurt both Al and Vale is sitting right next to him. But right now there is also a child there, and he  _isn't_  to blame."

Arthur considered his words but slowly shook his head. "I  _cannot_  trust Oscar, Matthew. Alfred can, you can, anyone else here can if they wish, but  _not_  me. Not when Ozpin can take his place at any moment. We both know his claim that he can only take control with permission is a lie. I will not let my guard down."

Matthew looked pained. He said nothing more and watched his brother animatedly question Oscar about his ideal weapon before his gaze drifted back to Ivan. The unnatural glare returned to his face.

XXXXXXX

The boy knew what he was doing was wrong. His mother had raised him better than this, and he could already hear the scolding he would get when he returned home. But it would be worth it. He'd happily get lectured until his ears burned if he could make this work. Surely his mother would not be too upset if he only stole a single wallet or jewel? He could sell them at the pawn shop and maybe say he'd gotten the lien from performing odd errands around town. That might be better than giving her the jewels. His mother was good at spotting liars— especially lies coming from her children— but if he was extra careful maybe she would be unable to tell.

Surely she would not protest against getting some extra money? The boy was only eight years old, but he knew how sad his mother had been since his father died. He'd heard her crying at night and talking to her friends during the day, asking them if they knew of any jobs for her. Her current job was going to end soon, and no new opportunities had popped up.

Which was why the boy hovered in an alleyway near his mother's workplace, watching people pass by. He could recognize most of them. Their town was big, but since no one could travel anymore, they had— as his mother would say— become 'a more tight-knit society.' If they were so 'tight-knit', then why wouldn't anyone give his mother a job? Why were they letting her to lose her work and soon her home? The boy was only eight, but he had ears. He understood some things, and some of those things made him angry.

That was why he tried not to feel guilty as he watched one woman with a fancy necklace pass by. He knew her name. She was Susan, though his mother called her 'that terrible, miserable old woman' who sometimes came to his mother's workplace to stay. Why someone would come to a hotel when their home was in the same town, the boy would never understand. Either way, Susan was a mean old lady. Surely his mother would not scold him for stealing from her?

The boy nervously crept out of hiding, gaze darting around the street. Despite his picked target, he was unsure how to proceed. The only reason he had gotten this idea in the first place was from a movie he saw. The main character made it look so easy, and the boy hoped he could do the same. Surely his mother would understand? He just wanted to help.

The boy followed the mean old lady Susan and was happy to see they were heading away from his mother's workplace. Susan was not walking very fast, so it was easy for the boy to track her, walking in the open but holding his breath. In the movie, the hero brushed past the evil rich lady to take her wallet, dipping his hand into the evil woman's purse to steal it and simply walking away. The boy hoped that maybe if he copied him, it would work. He noticed Susan the mean old lady slowing down and hurried up, coming up beside her.

He did not expect the woman to turn away from the stall when she did. He crashed into her front instead of brushing past her side like in the movie. Susan yelped and shoved him away, face turning an ugly purplish-red.

"Watch where you're going,  _brat_!" Susan the mean old lady snapped.

She tried to hit the boy with her bag but he dodged, fleeing into an alleyway. The boy hid behind some barrels and slumped to the ground, heart hammering in his chest. That had not gone according to plan. Not at all. The movies made it look so easy…

A glint caught his eye. The boy looked into the muck at the edge of the alleyway and saw the glitter of gold. He gasped and reached for it, pulling a thin strand out of the mud and wiping it on his shirt. In his palm sat a simple necklace with a large, expensive-looking green pendant.

The boy's heart soared. He did not know much about jewelry, but this looked like it cost a lot. And it was sitting, forgotten in an alleyway, so it was not even stealing. The chain was unbroken, so its previous owner must have not wanted it anymore. That meant finder's keepers. The boy could sell this at the pawn shop and get money for his mother, and she would not scold him for stealing.

The boy smiled and ran out of the alleyway with a spring in his step. Maybe he could get fifty lien for this necklace. Fifty was a lot, wasn't it? Fifty was a pretty big number, so it must be. The boy hoped that the pawn shop owner would agree. His mother called him a 'dirty scammer' but the boy had seen him before and he did not look that dirty. Maybe if he took an extra bath then his mother would like the man better.

The boy headed away from his mother's workplace and towards the edge of town where the pawn shop was. He passed by the two guards who always stood at the gate, only hesitating briefly. He  _found_  the necklace— he did  _not_ steal it— so he had done nothing wrong. That thought bolstered the boy's courage and he continued on his way, only catching a snippet of the guards' conversation.

"—can't believe he survived. The guy sure didn't look like a fighter. Looked more like a scientist or aristocrat to me."

"Looks can be deceiving." the guard's partner said. "He must have some training if he survived the forest to get here. I mean, it's not like he has an airship waiting in those Grimm-infested woods."

The boy had no interest in the guards' conversation so he continued on towards the pawn shop. It was positioned near the wall, and it would not take him long to reach it, especially considering this part of town was usually empty this time of day.

Yet instead of rushing through open streets to the pawn shop and his prize, the boy slammed into something hard. The boy fell to the floor and winced, rubbing his aching behind.

"Oh dear! Are you alright, lad?" a man with a refined accent asked.

The boy looked up to see a stranger. He did not recognize this man at  _all_. Sure, the boy did not know  _everyone_  in town, but he was certain he would recognize  _this_  man if he had glimpsed him before. That mustache and grey-and-yellow outfit were very memorable. The man's eyes flicked to the boy's hand and he held out his own. The boy noted he was wearing fingerless gloves.

"Here, let me help you up." the man said.

The boy took the offered hand and only realized the necklace was in it when it pressed into his palm. The man helped him to his feet and frowned at their palms, turning the boy's over and revealing his prize.

Green eyes landed on the necklace and went round. A smile played at his lips before it vanished under a shocked expression. "My word! This pendant is made from malachite. Do you know how valuable this is, lad?"

The boy did  _not_  know that, and shook his head innocently.

"It's one of the rarest gemstones on Remnant. It's worth  _thousands_." the man proclaimed. "I'm a collector you see and—" He cut himself off with a chuckle. "You probably don't care about that." He dug into his pockets and pulled out his wallet. "How does five thousand lien sound for this, lad?"

The boy's eyes widened and he nodded rapidly.  _Five thousand._  That was a  _lot_. Plus, if he sold the necklace here, his mother would  _never_  find out. The man chuckled. He counted out the lien and handed it to the boy, who eagerly placed the necklace into his palm. The man smiled and put the green-pendant endowed necklace into his pocket along with his wallet.

"Thank you for the wonderful gift, lad." Arthur Watts said. "I will be sure to cherish it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, the Razor Leaf reference was unintentional. I used a weapon naming randomizer for ideas for some of Australia's "names" and that came up. I thought it would be something Ruby would suggest for Penny's, but as I was editing, I realized it sounded familiar. I typed it into Google and guess what? It's a Pokemon move. XD


	18. Going Down

The ragtag bunch of nations was certainly one Ukraine never thought she would be a part of. Though she supposed she never expected she would have to fight demonic monsters and yet here she was doing exactly that.

Ukraine yanked her pitchfork free of a Beowolf's disintegrating corpse and stabbed another Beowolf through the throat. She used the pole to build momentum and flung the Grimm into its kin, bringing two down. Belarus dashed in and slashed their throats before they could rise, face set in a stoic expression.

Ukraine spotted a Creep and raised her weapon, only for New Zealand to dive in first, bludgeoning the Grimm. An Ursa Major rose behind the nation. Ukraine threw her pitchfork and it stabbed through the Ursa's skull, bringing it down. New Zealand barely spared it a glance. The Grimm was only one of many that seemed drawn to the nation, and although they were in the midst of battle, Ukraine could not ignore the signs of his pain.

"How are you…?"

"Coping?" New Zealand finished. "Well enough."

Ukraine hesitated and laid a hand on his arm. "I am sure Australia is fine."

New Zealand said nothing and shrugged her hand off, silently returning to the fight. Ukraine did not blame him. She could not blame anyone for their distance. No one could deny the air of discomfort among their unit. They all knew each other to varying degrees, but they had never fought together like  _this_. They were not the team based in the United States, who had leaders that  _forced_  them to get along and become a unit. Rather, they were like America's old minutemen, those who volunteered to be ready for service at a moment's notice.

They had their own military backgrounds to fall back on and some anti-Grimm training, but not nearly as much as the others. As a result, there was a noticeable lack of cohesion and teamwork among the majority of them, with the sisters and Czechia and Slovakia as the two exceptions. Everyone was in their element, but could not be further out of it as well. This fight was up close and personal in a way that they had not experienced for a while, though that may be Ukraine's own nervousness speaking.

And yet even with their lack of teamwork and the numbers against them, the horde of Grimm soon thinned out. Aura was truly a beautiful and terrifying thing. As Ukraine threw another Ursa onto Portugal's spear, she felt the strength and energy thrumming through her body. It was a shame Aura could not be trusted with everyone yet. It could help so many people…

The Grimm's numbers dwindled to zero while the nations stood strong. Not a single one of them was injured, and as they glanced at each other awkwardly, Turkey chuckled.

"That was invigorating!"

"They weren't strong." Belarus denied blandly.

"Perhaps not to us, but remember normal people do not have Aura." India said calmly, brushing a lock of hair away from his face.

Ukraine grimaced at the reminder, eyes watering at the thought of the lives lost.

"Well at least we showed the others we can handle things." Czechia said passionately, arms crossed over her chest. "I don't understand why  _they_  take most of the missions."

"They have larger numbers and faster transportation." Portugal reminded her.

Czechia huffed.

"Ukraine, can you tell if we got all of them?" Seychelles asked her.

Ukraine hesitated, glancing around. This was her country, but no nation could sense Grimm in their borders, even when they attacked. The settlements the monsters picked were always so small or isolated that they relied on drones and other means to even find the Grimm. Still, she could see no black shapes in the surrounding plains except—

Ukraine thought she saw a humanoid shape in the distance.

She blinked and it was gone.

"Ukraine?" Seychelles prompted.

She shook herself. "I— Yes. The Grimm are all gone."

"Great." Slovakia said, holding his gun awkwardly. "Can we go back to base now?"

"I don't see why not." New Zealand mentioned.

Czechia led the way back to their transport, a rather average jet compared to the United States-based team's spaceship. Ukraine did not mind. They were the secondary team for a reason, and Tony would never let anyone duplicate that particular bit of tech.

Ukraine fell behind the group, glancing back at the empty plains. No humanoid mirage reappeared, but she could not shake the feeling that someone had been there. Had they seen her and dropped down to hide from view? Were they still there? Maybe she should go check—

"Ukraine?" Belarus looked up at her sister, inscrutable expression slightly less harsh than usual. "Do you see something?"

Ukraine scanned the empty plain one last time and turned away. "No. I didn't see anything." she murmured, ignoring the unease in her chest.

XXXXXXX

After two more sleepless nights, America was past the point of exhaustion and teetering on the edge of a complete mental breakdown. Between the dizziness, nausea, and illogical desire to burst into tears for no apparent reason, America knew he was in trouble. He was beginning to consider begging Penny to knock him out, though he doubted it would help even if she agreed to it. He settled for bouncing his head against the unforgiving metal floor until Penny put her hand under his head, cushioning it.

"Please cease in your attempts to give yourself a concussion."

"I'm tired." America whispered.

Penny looked away from him. She almost seemed uncomfortable. "I am aware. Perhaps we should have purchased sleeping medication at Woodland."

America giggled even though nothing about the situation was funny. "Too late now."

Giving up on sleep—  _again_ — he sat up and got dressed, knowing no one was awake to see his scars. Who cared if they did? They already saw him as pathetic so why would knowledge of the injuries change their opinion of him? America paused in picking up Cobalt Striker and sighed, angrily smacking his forehead with a closed palm.

_Stop being self-pitying, idiot._

Penny caught his hand before he could smack himself again and shot him a droll stare.

Vale was similarly unimpressed.  _"Knocking yourself out won't make you sleep, idiot."_

America smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

A lance of pain went through his head and he sighed, pressing his hand to his clammy skin. Something nudged his palm and he instinctively grabbed the tissue, putting it to his nose.

"Thanks, Pen—"

Brown eyes studied him solemnly.

"Thanks, Kiku." America amended.

His friend said nothing, his eyes lingering on America's face. Specifically, the red-specked tissue against his nose. America smiled, which must look ridiculous with the tissue shoved up his nose.

"Morning." he greeted.

"Good morning." Japan said with the stiff tone of someone trying their best not to say something tactless. "How was your rest?"

America chuckled dryly. "What rest?"

Japan frowned. "You did not sleep?"

"Nope." America said with false cheer. "Not a wink. I'm insomniac at the moment."

"How long have you not been sleeping?" Japan asked.

America squinted. The memory failed to come to mind and he bit his lip until he tasted blood. "How long has it been since I was at the hospital?"

Japan's skin paled and his teeth clenched. "That is not healthy."

"No duh." America said.

He scooped up his bag and Cobalt Striker, double checking its straps. Blankets rustled, signifying someone else was waking up. Winter sat up and immediately began cleaning up her sleeping area, followed by England.

America leaned over to Japan. "Kiku? Don't tell them I'm not sleeping. I don't want them worrying more."

Japan cast him a sidelong look that suggested just how much he disagreed with that request, but obliged anyway, not saying a word as everyone woke. Canada was the last to rise, and he only woke because Italy tripped over Nora's leg and landed on him.

Matthew woke like a furious bear, hissing and snarling as he sent Italy screaming into the other room. When Jaune was too slow with the coffee, America performed his solemn brotherly duty and plopped down on top of the lump of blankets that was his growling brother to keep him from killing anyone. America leaned over— brushing off the wave of dizziness the move caused— and smiled innocently at the glowing violet eyes glowering at him from under the blanket.

"Morning, Mattie!"

Canada grunted.

America patted his cheek. "There there, poor little Mattie. Your coffee will be here soon."

Matthew emitted a sound that would make a Nuckelavee run for the hills. Jaune came with the offering and Canada snatched it from his hand, taking a sip and becoming his normal self. Honestly, pointing a coffee-deprived Canada at Salem and saying she stole the caffeine was sounding like a better idea every day.

Once Canada stopped trying to murder everyone, America left his twin to get ready and grabbed a cup of coffee for Sterlyn. The pilot either had a worse case of insomnia than him or had a Semblance that made him not require sleep, because even after days of flying, he was as awake and sarcastic as ever. America carefully noted that Russia was not yet fully awake and smiled at Penny when she rose to accompany him.

"I've got this one."

Penny frowned. "I must accompany you everywhere."

America pretended not to see the way her green eyes flicked to Russia. "I'll be fine."

"You always say that." Penny noted. "Then you are  _not_  fine."

America pouted. "I'm not that bad."

Penny raised an eyebrow in a very England-like way.

"I'll be  _fine_." America sulked.

Japan stepped up beside him. "How about I accompany Alfred instead?"

Penny scrutinized him. "How are your combat capabilities?"

America groaned. "I'm going to the cockpit. It's twenty feet away."

Japan ignored him. "I am quite proficient."

"How will you proceed if a threat appears?" Penny interrogated.

Japan's expression remained smooth. "I will terminate them."

Penny looked pleased. "Excellent. Alfred F. Jones is quite accident prone so please take extra care to make sure no harm comes to him."

"I'm standing right here." America reminded them.

"I will." Japan said solemnly.

"Do not hesitate to remain at close range to properly pull Alfred out of harm's way." Penny added. "He freezes in place one out of every three times."

"Thank you for the advice." Japan said with equal seriousness.

"Oh my  _God_." America groaned. He glowered at his friends— who suddenly found the walls to be extremely interesting and worthy of intense study. " _Stop laughing!_ "

Nora's giggles set them all off and America stalked out, humiliated. Japan wandered after him and he glowered at his so-called 'friend'.

"Thanks for treating me like an incompetent child, buddy."

"That was not my intention." Japan said gracefully. "But Penny treats your safety very seriously. She worries about you."

The sting of humiliation faded and America's shoulders slumped. "I know. I haven't exactly been able to prove I'm capable of handling myself, have I?"

Japan scrutinized him before turning away. "You are more than capable. But that does not mean you cannot look to your friends for assistance when you find yourself unable to stand on your own."

" _Oh, look. I think someone else knows about your Russia problem."_  Vale said loudly.

_Hush._  America thought tersely. He stomped towards the cockpit but halted mid-step. "Thanks for having my back. And being my friend."

Japan's brow creased. "America, why—?" He paused for a heartbeat. "You are welcome. I am honored to have a friend like you."

America twitched and awkwardly cleared his throat, caught off guard by the genuine response. "Uh— Great. Cool."

He fled into—  _led_  the way into Sterlyn's domain. The pilot was in his normal spot, looking no less tired than he first started. Yang, Australia, Italy and Blake were in the cockpit as well, the former two bugging Sterlyn. Italy hovered uncertainly near a console while Blake settled off to the side with a book.

If Blake had hoped for a quiet spot to read, she must be hopelessly disappointed. Sterlyn himself did not seem to mind Yang and Australia's teasing. Either that or he had music playing loudly in his helmet and was successfully drowning them out. America held the cup of coffee into his field of view, and the way he started proved the latter case to be true.

"Thanks." Sterlyn said, accepting the cup.

"Anything interesting happen?" America asked. He glanced down at the expanse of trees below them. "Hit any birds?"

"Nope." Sterlyn said. "It's great. At least one of those flying nuisances always gets in the way of my ship. They leave feathers." He paused thoughtfully. "And blood."

Blake wrinkled her nose. "Wonderful."

"We won't have to worry about that." Australia said idly. He frowned down at the dense woods below. "There are no animals down there."

"How can you tell?" Blake asked. "I can't see anything."

Australia shrugged. "I just can."

"Uh huh." Blake said skeptically.

"Jett!" Canada's voice came from the back, tinged with surprise. "They have  _marmite_."

Australia beamed. "Gimme!"

He dashed out of the cockpit.

America wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Of all the things in the worlds, why does  _that_  have to cross over?"

"What's wrong with marmite?" Yang asked.

"It's icky." America whispered, sticking out his tongue in disgust.

"Not if you eat it right!" Australia shouted from the other room.

" _You're_  the one who told me to eat a spoonful by itself,  _asshole!_ " America shouted back.

Australia cackled.

America ignored him— and Yang and Blake's smirks— and leaned over Sterlyn's shoulder. "So why have these three invaded your space?" he asked, nodding at Italy.

Sterlyn turned to stare at America. "Don't you mean  _four_?"

America shot him a winning smile. "Admit it, you enjoy my company."

"I enjoy it as much as I enjoy hers." Sterlyn said flatly, jerking his head at Yang.

She sniffled and wiped away an imaginary tear. "He  _does_  love us." Yang dropped the act and smirked. "I just came in because I was bored."

Sterlyn sighed.

"I wanted to read." Blake said with comparable disappointment.

America glanced expectantly at Italy, only to see the Italian was ignoring their conversation completely. Instead he sat with an empty water bottle, a pen, and a spoon, picking them up and squinting at them.

America crouched behind Italy. "Feliciano?"

Italy jumped but surprisingly did not shriek. He grabbed the random objects and held them to his chest. "A-Alfred. Kiku. I did not hear you."

"Good morning, Feliciano-kun." Japan greeted politely.

Italy mumbled a vague "Morning." He suspiciously avoided eye contact.

"So what are you doing?" America asked bluntly.

Italy's cheeks turned red. "Trying to use my Semblance."

Yang appeared at his side like she'd teleported. "Oh  _really_?"

Italy's skin blanched. "Don't tell Nora!"

"We won't." Blake assured him, lowering her book.

Italy placed the objects back on the floor and prodded the spoon halfheartedly. "It's quieter in here so I thought I could try..."

"Did you make any progress?" America asked carefully.

Italy shook his head. "I can't make myself intangible unless I'm scared."

"That's probably a good thing." Yang noted. "Otherwise you might sink through the bottom of the ship."

"Or you could make the ship intangible and we'd all fall to our deaths." Blake mused.

Italy turned bone-white.

"...I can see how you're partners now." America said dryly. "You have the same lack of tact. And that's coming from  _me_."

Yang jabbed him in the side while Blake winced, smiling apologetically at Italy. "You might want to hold off practicing until we land. It won't be much longer."

"We're still hundreds of miles out." Sterlyn said flatly.

Blake cringed. "...It might be a bit longer."

Yang glanced out the window and sighed. "Aw, man. I hope this ship is waterproof, Sterlyn. Look at those storm clouds."

America glanced out the window and his heart sank into his shoes. The sky was black. A writhing mass cloaked the sea of blue, stretching across their path and too far out of sight to spot the smallest speck of light. The mass churned and wriggled like a swarm of maggots tearing free of a corpse, seemingly tiny flecks breaking free before sinking back into the throng. Flashes of red and white rippled among the wall of darkness, and

America wished he could delude himself into believing the infinite horde ahead of them was simply nature at its angriest.

"Those aren't storm clouds." Italy whimpered.

Blake stared at the black vortex, mouth agape and ears flat against her head. "Are those  _Grimm_?"

"I think so." Yang said weakly. She swallowed visibly. "Do you think they knew we were coming this way?"

"Probably." America said tersely.

"We need to go around." Blake said, eyes flicking rapidly over the horde.

America scanned the endless wall of Grimm. "I don't know if we  _can_."

Japan pushed past him, towards the cargo hold. "We must tell the others—"

Black specks broke free of the swarm and shot towards them.

" _SHIT!_ " Sterlyn shouted.

He yanked on the controls and the ship tipped sideways, barely evading the Griffons. Startled shouts came from the cargo hold and Sterlyn snatched his radio.

"We're under attack. Stay where you are." Sterlyn snapped.

Weiss's crackling voice came through. "Sterlyn, we can—"

"There's no openings except the ramp. So unless you can hold everyone in place with your Semblance, I can't open the doors. We're  _sitting_   _ducks_."

Weiss's reply was cut off as a stream of Grimm separated from the swarm, racing towards them. A few struck the ship head-on, slamming into the sides with the  _crunch_  of abused metal. A brief green flare flashed over the vessel and Blake gasped.

"That spell's still there?"

America opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about but Sterlyn jerked the controls, sending the ship onto its side.

America smacked into Yang. "Sorry!"

"Hold on to something." Sterlyn ordered.

America grabbed a bolted down chair as the pilot flew the airship upward, giving them a brief glimpse of their pursuers. A swarm of Griffons, Nevermores, Lancers, and species he did not recognize flew after the ship, intent on bringing it down. Something landed on the side and Sterlyn cursed. He twisted the controls, bringing the ship into a looping barrel roll, and a Nevermore was thrown off. It regained its balanced and rejoined the hunt too quickly for them to rejoice.

"Do we have  _any_  weapons?" he demanded.

Sterlyn shook his head, jaw clenched and quivering. "No. I couldn't exactly smuggle anything into Atlas. We're helpless."

"We're  _not_  helpless." America snarled. He raised his hand, pointing at the black monstrosities swirling around them.

" _Use lightning."_  Vale ordered.  _"But be careful not to hit the ship. It runs on Dust."_

_I'm aware,_  America thought tightly.

He shut his eyes, listening to the thuds and screeches of the circling Grimm, doing his best to picture them in his mind. He reached inside himself and out to the open air, even as something inside him twisted and strained painfully. The sky darkened and lightning flashed, splitting the air apart with earth-shaking  _booms_. Everyone but America winced at the noise, clutching at their ringing ears, but America did not stop, sending bolts of electricity down from the heavens.

A Nevermore dove for the windshield but a bolt tore through it, tearing it apart into an explosion of feathers. A few glanced off the airship with near-metallic  _tinks_ but failed to puncture the hull. America released a puff of air, pushing the increasing ache in his torso away, and released another flurry of bolts. Flashes of ice, and green light joined the lightning, while white glyphs deflected a few of the attacks. The others had joined in. They were fighting back. They might be able to do—

A Griffon shot towards the windshield and Sterlyn jerked the controls, sending them sliding. Yang smacked into America and he yelped, losing focus. Something struck the side of the ship and metal screamed, followed by an ear-splitting  _snap_. A brief flicker of green flared weakly over the windshield before it faded away. Smoke wafted into view but was pulled away by the wind, joining the writhing blackness of the sky.

America was too numb to feel afraid. "We're going down."

The black sky was replaced by a sea of blue and green as the airship did a nosedive, falling towards the earth. Italy screamed and clung to Sterlyn, ignoring the pilot's demands that he let go. France fell into the cockpit, pulled forward by gravity, and Blake released her chair to catch him before he could slide across the floor. France clung to her, grasping the chair in an attempt to keep them in place. America gripped his own anchor, scrambling for a way to slow them down, a way to save them,  _anything—_

Green vanished, leaving only the blue of a lake, and the airship hit the water. The wail of breaking metal was accompanied by human screams as everyone lurched, snapped forward by the impact. The windshield exploded inward and water rushed into the cockpit. America barely had time to gasp before he was submerged. The water rushed around him, but rather than shove him back, it twisted him around and yanked him out the broken windshield.

The concepts of up and down became meaningless as America twisted and spun in the water, leaving a stream of bubbles in his wake. Too quickly, the light of the airship disappeared from sight, leaving him alone in the dark depths. He clamped his mouth shut and glanced around frantically, unable to locate the airship or the surface. A spot of light caught his eye and he swam towards it, desperately praying it was the airship's flickering lights.

Instead America broke through the surface, gasping for air. Beside him, water rippled and Italy emerged with Sterlyn on his back. The Italian visibly struggled to stay afloat, craning his neck to keep his mouth above the water, but sank below the water. America cursed and dove after him, grabbing him and praying he would keep his hold on Sterlyn.

Italy refused to release the pilot, hugging him tightly as America pushed sluggishly at the water. Once swimming with two people would be no problem for him, but now he felt his muscles strain with every kick as he crawled towards the open air. Italy realized he was floundering and began to kick as well, lessening the weight that wanted to drag America downward.

They burst above the surface in a spray of water. America spotted the shore and paddled towards it, dragging Italy and Sterlyn. The Italian crawled onto the dirt, pulling Sterlyn with him, and instantly checked the pilot's breathing. Sterlyn coughed water into Italy's face and rolled onto his side with a groan. America's relief was short-lived when a blonde head popped out of the water… and no one else.

Yang's panicked violet eyes locked with his and her skin turned ashen.

" _Ruby!_ " she screamed.

She plunged below the water. America threw his bag onto the shore, took a gulp of air, and dove after her. The darkness of the lake was a completely different world. Every sense was muffled, his sight drastically reduced by the murky water while his ears were nearly deafened, leaving him with an uncomfortable sense of claustrophobia. He ignored it and swam deeper, following Yang's shock of bright blonde hair ahead of him.

A small shape passed by him and he carefully avoided the spiky catfish that swam obliviously by. The fish ignored him, continuing on its way without a care in the world.

A figure with too many limbs appeared out of the shadows and America recognized Australia with Ren on his back. Australia barely spared America a glance, intent on reaching the surface, and America let him go, wondering how much deeper the airship was. They passed Blake and France next and America's gaze zeroed in on the dark splotch on the Faunus's arm. He did not need to see the way she struggled to know she was injured, for the trail she left in the water was evidence enough.

Despite his attempts to remain calm, panic stabbed at America.  _How injured are the others? Did any of them get yanked out like I did? Oh Gods what if they're unconscious in the water somewhere and—_

" _MOVE!"_

Startled by Vale's shout, America dove aside on instinct alone. A gigantic shape shot past his previous position, turning rapidly in the water. America barely got a glimpse of what appeared to be a huge black crocodile before it dove towards him— past him?

America could not scream a warning to Yang as the crocodile Grimm's jaws closed around her arm. Violet eyes turned red but the crocodile twisted, spinning horizontally and dragging its prey with it. America raced towards it but Yang was thrown free of its grasp, flipping uncontrollably through the water. America used a burst of wind and propelled himself forward, kicking the Grimm in the eye. It released its prize— Yang's robotic arm— and America snatched it, stabbing the Grimm in the jaw. It snarled, roar muffled by the water, and snapped at him, jaws latching around his leg.

America grunted and stabbed it twice in the head, forcing it to release him. He dodged its tail and spotted Yang swimming towards them. With a flick of his hand he pushed her forward, leaving displaced water in her wake. She slammed into the Grimm's back fist-first and America heard its spine  _crack_. The life in its eyes faded but the two were already moving away, deeper into the lake.

America could feel his lungs beginning to burn but he could not turn back. The others may still be trapped. He could only hope the crash left an air pocket somewhere. Finally, he spotted flickering lights ahead. The broken airship was on its side, teetering on the edge of a chasm. As America watched, Japan emerged, circling the vessel. He spotted America and Yang and raised his hands.

" _Others in cargo hold. Stuck. Canada iced wall keep water out._ "

America knew that Japan could use American Sign Language perfectly— he had taught him, after all— but agreed now was not the time for proper grammar. He stopped Yang from punching the ship and responded to Japan.

" _Surface close enough to make it._ "  _I hope._

Japan nodded and slipped through the broken windshield. America and Yang followed him into the small air pocket in one corner, taking in precious air.

"Where's Ruby?" Yang demanded once she caught her breath.

"In the cargo hold. They're stuck." Japan explained for her benefit.

"Is anyone unconscious?" America asked. He handed Yang her arm and she clicked it back into place. The metal was noticeably dented, but nothing could be done about that now.

"Only Jaune. I think he used his Aura to enhance everyone else's." Japan said.

_Leaving himself vulnerable,_  America finished silently. "Injured?"

Japan grimaced. "Some require assistance."

"Okay." America said tightly, knowing time was not on their side. "We're close to the cliff so be careful. Let's go."

They slipped back into the water. America swam towards the cargo hold, spotting a wall of crystalline ice where part of the door once stood. A red shape moved on the other side and Ruby pressed a hand to the icy barrier, silver eye wide. Spotting Yang, she smiled. Her mouth moved but they could not hear her.

Canada appeared beside Ruby and signed. " _Jaune unconscious. Lovino and Oscar injured._ "

" _Everyone there?_ " America asked.

Canada shook his head. " _Penny missing._ "

America's heart squeezed but he ignored it. They had to get the others out. But if they broke the ice, Jaune did not have the consciousness to hold his breath.

" _Plan?_ " he signed.

The ship creaked. America gestured frantically towards the right side and Canada and Ruby rushed over there, keeping their weight towards the end of the ship that was not hanging over a cliff. The cargo ship groaned painfully, the scrapes of bending metal echoing all around, and the time for caution was over. Yang punched the ice wall, shattering it, and water rushed into the cargo hold. Its occupants leaped back— some screaming— but none could escape the swarm of water.

Canada grabbed England and swam out with the speed of a shark, unaffected by the chill of the water. The others followed more slowly, with Russia grabbing Jaune while Nora helped Oscar. The boy had a bloody cloth wrapped around his head.

Only Pyrrha did not move. She sat at the center of the cargo hold, eyes squeezed shut and hair swirling around her as water rushed in, and America realized she was holding the airship in place. Her muscles trembled with strain, and it was clear she did not have long until the airship fell into the abyss. America swam towards her and yanked her up. She barely reacted, lips pressed thin with concentration, and America knew she would not let go until everyone else was out.

As Japan assisted a struggling Romano, America clenched his teeth, mentally calculating how long he could hold his breath. The airship shuddered— not from strain, but an  _explosion_. America pulled Pyrrha along, through the airship and out the empty windshield, to see Russia grappling with another crocodile Grimm. Though 'grappling' was a rather loose term.

This one made the first look like a baby. In fact, America suspected the first crocodile Grimm was one. The Grimm's body was three times as long as their airship and wide enough that Russia would be able to lay across its mouth with room to spare. Gigantic spikes lined the beast's back, ending in a mace-like, spiked tail, and its teeth were nearly as long as America's forearm. Its eyes, angry and red and monstrous, roved wildly, enraged at being halted in its attack.

Indeed, grappling was a loose term. Russia could barely hold the Grimm back as the others fled towards the surface. This was the Grimm's domain, and they were horribly outmatched. That did not stop America from pushing towards the Grimm with Pyrrha at his side. Behind them, the airship creaked and slipped off of the cliff.

The Grimm saw them coming and whipped its tail. America dodged but the blow hit Pyrrha in the side. Bubbles burst from her mouth and she flinched, clapping her hand over it as her body lurched in pain. Nora's hammer intercepted the next swipe and she jerked her head at her teammate, urging her towards the surface. Pyrrha obliged with clear reluctance, her metal armor dragging at her as she swam.

Nora floated beside America, lips clamped shut, and he realized she had something in her mouth. His best guess was she had an air Dust crystal. Did they work like that? There was no time or way to ask as the Grimm snapped at them. Nora slammed her hammer down on its head and it shot away, circling back. A huge leg sent Russia flipping through the water, and giant jaws nearly clamped on Nora's leg. America pulled her aside just in time and she loaded a grenade, firing at the Grimm.

Pink explosions surrounded the Grimm and it growled, circling away with lazy intent. It shot back in with a burst of speed and Nora shoved America out of the path of its jaws. She swung at the beast, catching its leg, and bone crunched.

The Grimm howled and twisted, ramming into her. Nora kept her mouth firmly shut even as her eyes widened in pain. America stabbed the Grimm in the back but his bayonet glanced off its hide. Its tail flicked and he scarcely dodged the mace, feeling it brush past his arm. He began to consider frying the thing, but if anyone other than Nora was in the water they'd be in for a nasty surprise.

" _I hate underwater battles."_  Vale snarled, and America could only agree.

The Grimm sped towards him and he dodged, only for its tail to smack his side. A large bubble of air burst free of his mouth before he shut it, tasting muddy water. The Grimm twisted gracefully in the water and rammed him again, and he realized it must recognize who he was. Nora had no such mercy for as she dropped towards it, it turned on her in a flash, catching her hammer in its teeth. Nora's lips twisted into a snarl and she kicked the Grimm in the nose, pulling uselessly at her hammer.

The Grimm's eye glinted with intelligent malice and it almost seemed to grin. America lurched forward, but could not scream for Nora to release the weapon—

Water rippled and something rammed into the Grimm's eye. It barely moved the gigantic behemoth, but it caused enough pain that it bellowed, thrashing in place with its eye squeezed shut. As its jaws opened, Nora spiraled out of range, flipping head over heels from the force of her own pull. The Grimm snarled, enraged by the lost opportunity, and turned on their assistant.

America caught a glimpse of a small catfish before the Grimm's jaws snapped closed around it. He barely had time to grieve for their unexpected ally before another catfish sped out of the murky water. It dropped below the Grimm's jaw and jammed its spiky dorsal fins into the soft area there.

The Grimm shrieked as it was poisoned, swiping at the poor creature, and America darted in, carefully grasping the creature and kicking out of range. The catfish wriggled a little in his grasp but did not try to break free. Instead glowing green eyes stared at him with fierce intelligence, and he noticed a strange marking over its nose.

_Australia?!_

For a moment America thought the nation had somehow shapeshifted, but a swarm of catfish swam into view, each one with the same marking and glowing green eyes. As one, they swarmed the Grimm like vultures, ignoring all natural instincts in favor of slaying the large beast.

America turned his back and swam towards the surface, knowing the Grimm was done for. Its death scream rippled through the water but America ignored it, lungs straining and light just out of reach. He burst above the surface and was instantly swarmed by Canada and Yang. They grabbed his arms and pushed towards the shore, while Ren assisted Nora. As soon as they were on land, America fell in a heap next to Sterlyn while Nora vomited onto the sand.

"Note to self." she groaned. "Don't eat Dust crystals."

"That's why air Dust crystals are  _refined_  and  _put in equipment_  for diving, Nora." Weiss snapped even as she held back Nora's hair.

"It worked." Nora said weakly and spat up more bile.

Ren rubbed her back soothingly. "It did. Sorry the rest of us weren't much help."

"It's fine. Thanks for the save, Jett." America said.

Monochromatic dark green eyes stared at him briefly before turning away. Australia crouched at the edge of the surf. Before America's eyes, a few fish swam towards the shore, some carrying bags between them. Australia accepted their offerings and stood. The green glow faded and the fish instantly sped off, disappearing into the lake.

"I got some of our supplies." Australia threw a soggy bag to the ground with a wet plop.

"How did you  _do_  that?" Oscar gasped.

Australia shrugged. "I don't know. I've been… zoning out lately, and when Italy wouldn't let me dive back in, it just…  _happened_."

From her place on the shore, Nora raised her arms into the air and waved them. "Semblance." she said, tiredly. "Yay."

"Define 'zoning out.'" Canada said sharply, one wrong word away from fussing.

Oblivious to the danger, Australia shrugged. "You know how boring the ship was. I'd just imagine I was flying." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I  _thought_  I was imagining it..."

"So you can possess and control animals? That's so  _cool_." America squealed.

Australia smiled.

"Well, you don't have to worry about the boring old ship anymore." Yang interjected tiredly.

France looked up from Sterlyn and grimaced. "How far out are we?"

"Hundreds of miles from Vale." Oscar reported.

Nora groaned and laid her head back. She jerked up, reaching for her weapon. "Incoming."

America spotted the stream of black coming towards them and cursed. There were at least seventy Grimm, while his friends could barely stand. They could not handle a close-range battle. Not now.

_Screw this._

Ignoring the strain in his gut, America pointed at the Grimm and let lighting flare over his frame. The sky darkened— turning pitch black— and electricity arced through the air. With a thunderous  **BOOM**  that shook the earth, the lightning blasted the Grimm from the sky. As their sparking corpses rained down around him, pain  _tore_  through America as icy knives slashed through his chest. His knees buckled, hitting the dirt, and he curled up, hands pressed to his mouth to silence a scream.

" _Al!_ " Canada screamed.

America felt his twin's hands on his shoulders and shuddered. He forced himself to bite his tongue and keep from giving voice to his agony as his insides were  _torn apart_ molecule by molecule. America could not bear to remain upright and curled up on the ground, biting through his lip as the knives turned his organs into mincemeat.

Vale rambled pointless comforts and apologies in the back of his mind, but he could barely hear her through the frantic pounding of his own blood. He lowered his hand and hid it against his shirt, hoping beyond hope Canada did not see the smear of red there. His twin's sharp gasp indicated he did.

America forced himself to speak. "Sorry guys." he wheezed. "Don't think I can do that again."

Canada's fingers twitched, as if he were torn between hugging and shaking him. He ended up embracing America, holding him tightly to his chest. America laid his head on his twin's shoulder and released a shaky breath, wishing he could expel the pain with an exhale. Instead it lingered inside him and he feared something may be irreparably broken.

" _You're right. You_ _ **can't**_ _do that again."_  Vale whispered.  _"You'll kill yourself."_

America swallowed.  _Hey, don't sound so scared. I rely on your Semblance too much. I might as well break that habit._

Vale's laugh was watery and weak.  _"You idiot."_ There was no condemnation in her tone.

The surface of the lake rippled. Canada yanked America behind him, England's staff glowed with light, and Nora forced herself onto her feet, trembling visibly. Penny casually walked out of the lake, shaking water from her hair like an annoyed puppy. Her green eyes scanned the group, landing on America, and she headed right towards him. She dropped onto the dirt beside him and hugged him tightly, making his ribs creak.

"I am never leaving your side again. Ever."

America winced. "Penny—"

" _Ever_." she enunciated. She twitched, squeezing him tightly enough that his bones creaked, and America bit back a pained cry. Penny released him, flexing her fingers. She frowned. "It appears some water got through my synthetic skin."

America grasped her shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?"

"My components are mostly waterproof." Penny informed him. She paused. "However, I may need to temporarily shut down to properly cleanse my systems."

America nodded. "Okay. Go ahead and—"

"No." Penny stated with a clear scowl.

America let the subject drop for now and looked to his companions. France had finished wrapping Blake's bleeding arm, Sterlyn had sat up with Weiss's assistance, and Italy was fretting over Romano. Pyrrha crouched beside Jaune, holding his face and whispering frantically to him. England knelt next to them, pressing an ear to Jaune's chest, and began doing compressions.

America's heart skipped a beat.  _No no no no no no no—_

"...twenty-nine, thirty." England counted. He gave two breaths and started counting again. "One… two… three… Lad,  _breathe_..."

Jaune remained unresponsive. His skin was bruised and pale. Ruby gasped softly and turned away, hands over her eyes and Oscar flinched, reaching for his cane. Yang shot the boy a glare and hugged her sister, whispering softly to her.

England counted another thirty and gave two breaths, teeth growing noticeably clenched as he started another cycle of compressions… and Jaune's body jerked. He coughed up a mouthful of water, groaning, and his eyes fluttered. Pyrrha was at his side in an instant, gently holding his face.

"Jaune?"

Blue eyes flicked open and Jaune spat up more water.

Pyrrha did not flinch, keeping her hands on his dirty face. "Jaune, its alright. We're alright."

Jaune coughed weakly and squinted at her, eyes glazed. Penny grasped America's hand and dragged him over to the couple's side. She knelt next to Jaune.

"Jaune, does your head hurt anywhere?"

"A little." he mumbled.

"Are you dizzy?" Penny asked levelly.

"Yeah." he mumbled, shutting his eyes.

Penny leaned over him. "Can you look at me, please?"

Jaune did so, holding her gaze. To America's relief, his pupils were the same size. Penny was not satisfied and continued asking him questions, shooing Pyrrha away when she tried to help Jaune sit up. It was not until she was certain Jaune suffered no spinal injury and had a low risk of a concussion that she let Pyrrha return, but even then, Penny glared when Jaune try to rise.

"Rest." Penny commanded.

Jaune smiled weakly. "Yes, ma'am." he sought Pyrrha, brow furrowed with slight confusion. "Did we crash?" he asked faintly.

"Yes." Pyrrha said.

Jaune raised his head— ignoring Penny's annoyance— and scanned the group. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes." Pyrrha's voice shook. "You protected us."

"Cool." Jaune mumbled. He sighed and laid his head back on the ground. "It looks like we're walking the rest of the way." he said tiredly. "Again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet is being an unreliable butt again so here's the chapter a little early.
> 
> Whenever someone predicted/asked if America's Semblance involved animals, I was laughing my head off because I knew that was Australia's Semblance. His was one of the easiest to decide.
> 
> You know what? I'm going to do Monday (Well, technically today it's Sunday), Wednesday, and Friday updates again. Just for a couple weeks to celebrate the holidays and New Year. It might go back to just Monday and Friday after that. We'll see.
> 
> See you on Wednesday!


	19. Something Amiss

The first night in the woods was tense and uncomfortable. Left with the clothes on their backs and meager supplies, they passed out the few blankets and sleeping bags they had, though most had to be dried over the fire. Many opted to share with someone, and so Pyrrha lay next to Jaune, watching the crackling fire and listening to her companions' breathing.

Team RWBY was on guard duty, huddled close around the fire as the last of the moisture dripped from their clothes, but they were far from the only ones who were awake. Penny sat beside Alfred and glared attentively into the trees, and Arthur's shoulders were too tense for him to be resting. America was similarly stiff, his back pressed against his brother's and his body slightly curled as if he had a bad stomachache. Pyrrha knew it was more than a stomachache that pained him but also knew there was little she could do to help. Would painkillers do anything?

Behind Pyrrha, Jaune shifted and put his arm over her. She might believe it was instinctive if not for the firmness in which he held her, as if he feared letting her go. His breathing was too quick for him to be asleep, and she could feel his stare on the back of her head. As the minutes ticked by and Yang added wood to the faltering fire, Pyrrha rolled over and met Jaune's bright blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" she whispered. "Does your head still hurt?"

He shook his head minutely. "No. I'm fine. Just can't sleep. I'm not sure I should after… you know."

"After Aura exhaustion and you nearly drowned." Pyrrha said and he winced.

"Yeah. That." Jaune absently reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "You really need to get your bangs cut."

"I don't think Francis would approve if I used my weapon to trim my hair." Pyrrha said. "And you are changing the subject."

Jaune averted his gaze, suitably chastised. "I guess I am."

Pyrrha cupped his cheek with her hand and brushed his cheekbone. The discoloration from earlier had faded but she could see its presence in the flickering shadows of the fire.

"You scared me."

" _I_  scared me." Jaune admitted. "When I used my Semblance like that, I was out like Nora took her hammer to my head." His dry— and perhaps defensive— flippancy faded into a solemn look. "But the thought of losing you scared me more."

Pyrrha shivered and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. "Jaune, you wouldn't—"

"Aura isn't infinite." he interrupted quietly. "Not even mine is. You all only walked— er, swam— out of that crash with minor bruises because I shielded you."

"But you left yourself vulnerable. You used  _all_  of your Aura to protect us." Pyrrha insisted. "Jaune, you can't do that again."

Jaune's jaw clenched. "I certainly can, and I will if I have to—"

"Alfred already has a martyr complex;  _you_  don't need one too." Pyrrha snapped. She winced and glanced at Alfred's back, but he appeared not to hear her. "Sorry. That was uncalled for, to you and him. But Jaune, the amount of Aura you used would be more appropriate if the airship was being crushed around us. You overdid it."

"I don't think so. I couldn't let anything happen to you." He still avoided her gaze.

Pyrrha gripped his hand and squeezed it, entwining her fingers through his. "This isn't about the airship, is it? Please tell me what's wrong."

Jaune said nothing. Pyrrha waited patiently, watching every emotion that passed over his face. Eventually he pulled his hand away from hers and rolled over so his back was to her.

"I couldn't fail again."

Pyrrha's breath caught and she reached out, but he did not turn back to her. She put her hand on the center of his back, between his shoulder blades, just to let him know she was there. An irrational burst of anger passed through her as he ignored her but she expelled it with her breath.

"There was nothing more you could do for Qrow."

"There  _was_." Jaune whispered. "If I had more control over my Semblance or tried harder, he might still be able to walk. I failed."

Pyrrha shook her head, even though she knew he would not see it. "If you failed, he would be  _dead_. You did the best you could."

Jaune tensed under her hand. "It wasn't my be—"

"Your Semblance is not infallible. All power has limits." Pyrrha continued. "But even with that limit, I know you. I know how much you care about people. You care for them so deeply your Semblance allows you to make them more likely to survive and helps heal their wounds.  _That_  is who you are, so do  _not_  try to convince me you didn't try to heal Qrow with everything you had."

Jaune slowly rolled over, revealing teary blue eyes. "But what if I fail again? What if my Semblance isn't enough to save someone?"

"...I don't know." Pyrrha admitted. Losing someone… Such a possibility was unfathomable and she did not allow herself to consider it further. "We'll… live, I suppose. But if something happens, I know you'll do your best. Don't doubt yourself, okay? You're stronger than you think."

She kissed him on the cheek. Jaune's cheeks reddened visibly even in the dull light. He leaned forward but a sneeze reminded them that they were not the only ones there. Blake covered her nose, ears flat and eyes wide, and Yang muffled her laughter with her hand.

"Jeez, Blake. I think you woke your parents with that one." she giggled.

Blake smacked her on the arm, ears twitching with embarrassment. Yang poked her back, and Weiss hissed at them that everyone was sleeping. The two partners backed off, with Yang smirking triumphantly.

Amused, Pyrrha looked back to Jaune and saw his eyes were closed. His even breathing told her he had fallen asleep. Her lips twitched and she covered his exposed arm with the blanket before settling back down. The rhythmic movement of his chest soothed her and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

XXXXXXX

"So." France said brightly. "Does anyone want to develop a teleportation Semblance? Come now, do not be shy."

He grunted and gave an odd little hop, shaking one of his feet with a grimace and flicking a bit of dirt at England in the process. England serenely considered the speck of dirt on his coat before his expression darkened murderously. Likely sensing incoming retribution, Ruby covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. France ignored her and turned hopefully to Japan.

"Kiku? How about you? You  _are_  a ninja, are you not?"

Japan was too polite to do more than hum in not-agreement.

"That's not how Semblances work." Blake said dryly.

"You do not know that." France accused. "Kiku could very well have a teleportation Semblance."

"Your feet just hurt because we have been walking for a week." England said flatly.

"Stop telling lies." France denied. He looked to Oscar, seeking an ally. "What does Ozpin have to say about this subject?"

Oscar hesitated. "I don't know. He's been…  _muffled_  since the crash."

America winced at the reminder, glancing at the boy's head. The injury there had healed, but he still had the occasional headache. America could not say whether Ozpin's silence was because he could not speak to Oscar at the moment or if he was simply staying quiet so he did not aggravate the kid's migraine. He also could not decide whether that absence was a blessing or a curse. America deigned not to say anything at all.

"I don't think ninjas can teleport anyway." Canada mentioned, dragging America from his thoughts.

France was scandalized. "How can you believe their lies, Matthieu?"

Canada shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

France looked at the woods and the long walk ahead and drooped. "...My feet hurt."

England muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath.

"It's too bad Yang's mother-in-name-only is a bitch." Nora said thoughtfully. "She could take us straight to Yang and Ruby's dad on Patch." She caught sight of Yang's expression. "Um…"

Yang stopped her with a wave of her robotic hand, the movement noticeably stiff. After the crocodile Grimm used it as a chew toy, America had fixed the limb as best he could. However, with no parts to replace the damaged ones, Yang's robotic arm was not at peak performance. It moved with slight less fluidity than usual and occasionally her pinky would move after a small delay.

"It's fine. I know my dearest mother is an evil old bird." Yang grinned, waiting for applause for her creativity.

Weiss ignored her.

Blake sighed.

Ruby booed.

Yang caught her little sister by the hood and swept her onto her shoulder. Ruby screamed and smacked her sister's back but was ignored.

"Yang! Put me  _down_."

"Never." Yang declared. "My vengeance is swift, sister. You should have known better than to cross me. You never should have booed my amazing puns."

Ruby whined, smacking her sister's back, but soon resorted to pulling Yang's hair. The declaration of war was answered and the sisters began to scuffle. Most of the group simply rolled their eyes and stepped around the sisters to continue walking, but Winter halted beside them, eyebrows creeping towards her forehead as Ruby put Yang in a headlock.

"They  _do_  realize we're in Grimm territory?" she muttered.

Japan leaned over to her before America could. "They do." he said softly. "But what is better to keep fear away than a bit of fun?"

Winter's befuddled expression cleared. "I see. I suppose that makes sense. In an odd and immature way."

Ruby had somehow clambered onto Yang's shoulders and was currently jabbing her in the back of the head.

America stopped to observe the battle and nudged Canada. "How long until we stop them?"

"They'll stop on their own once they realize they are getting left behind." Canada said blandly.

America cackled. "Cruel, Mattie."

"I haven't had coffee." Canada muttered, fingers twitching like he was a second away from strangling someone.

"How did you survive the walk through Anima then?" America asked.

Canada grumbled vaguely.

Up ahead, France shrieked. "You did that on purpose!"

America looked from the streak of mud in France's hair to England's dirty hand.

"You walked into me, frog." England snapped. He casually wiped his hand down France's face. " _That_  was on purpose.

France's eyes narrowed dangerously. Australia looked from angry blond— France— to other angry blonde— Yang.

"You know, are we  _sure_  these two aren't related?" he casually asked over the shrieking.

America shrugged as France lunged for England. He stifled a laugh as the two fought not like proud nations, but like irritated cats. At least some things did not change.

Penny tapped his arm.

He smiled at her. "Yes, Penny?"

"I made a miscalculation. I am shutting down." she said.

She tipped forward. America yelped and caught her, lowering her carefully to the ground. Yang and Ruby and England and France abandoned their fights in favor of rushing over, and everyone crowded around Penny and America. He touched her forehead, scanning her coding, and noticed her systems were working on absorbing and expunging a foreign element. For a panicked moment he thought she had a virus, but he quickly realized it was the water in her systems. America sat back on his heels and sighed.

"Damn it, Penny. You need to take care of yourself..."

"Is she alright?" Ruby asked urgently.

America nodded. "Her systems are freaking out about the water that got in the wrong places. She'll wake up once it sorts itself out."

"That's quite a design flaw." Winter noted with a frown. "Even Atlesian Knights are waterproofed."

"She  _is_  waterproof." America said. "Just… not for full submersion in gross water."

"Not to mention she's probably a rush job." Russia added.

America glared at him and Russia smirked. He ignored the larger nation's goading and scooped up Penny. To his surprise, Sterlyn approached with open arms.

"Let me take her." the pilot requested. "I'm not as useful in a fight as you."

America hesitated briefly before handing Penny over. Sterlyn held her securely, seemingly unburdened by her weight, and America double-checked to make sure she was balanced on his back. Once he was satisfied, he nodded.

"She should be okay."

"Good." England said briskly. "We must keep moving."

He continued forward. America frowned at his back, disconcerted. He caught Japan glancing at Penny's limp form, and heard him sigh lowly.

"I hope this isn't a sign." Japan murmured.

It began to rain.

XXXXXXX

Two days later, spirits were not nearly so high. The rain had not stopped since it began, leaving them to trek through the mud with drenched clothes and no shelter. The bags Australia managed to fish out of the lake only had a little gear for rain and America's own bag had one measly poncho. Said poncho was draped over Penny in an attempt to stop even more water from slipping into whatever cracks existed in her synthetic skin.

It was a losing battle. They did not have the equipment to keep Penny dry. America dare not wake her and risk messing up her systems so she was left in hibernation.

XXXXXXX

"Aren't there  _any_  cities between us and Vale?" Nora moaned on the third day of rain. "Or maybe some ruins?"

"These woods are currently uninhabited. While we were in Woodland, Ozpin told me there are ruins somewhere but we won't reach them for a while." Oscar told her reluctantly.

Nora groaned and squelched through more mud. America followed, and rain and wind battered at his face. He shivered and gripped his hood, keeping it from slipping from his head. Pyrrha lost her own double-hoods and grimaced, pulling her red hood and Jaune's black one back over her head.

Jaune himself held his shield over his head, trudging forward with a grimace, and refused Pyrrha's offer to return his Pumpkin Pete hoodie. America admired his chivalry but was beginning to worry about the very-real threat of pneumonia. They were already slowed down by the rain, and getting sick out here could be a huge problem. Aura could do a lot— Jaune's Semblance even more so— but could it expunge illnesses? That was unlikely, and America did not want to have to find out.

He shivered and warmed his skin with Vale's Semblance, glowering at the gloomy dark grey sky.  _Vale? Can we do anything?_

" _I'm afraid not."_ Vale said apologetically. " _I can bring storms but I can't send them away."_

America sighed and kept walking.

XXXXXXX

A fiery shotgun blast missed a deer and it fled into the forest, its panicked dash unhindered by the mud. Drenched and cold, Yang watched it go with a dumbfounded expression before her features twisted with rage.

" _DAMN IT!_ "

America glanced at her sympathetically. "Bad luck."

Yang scowled darkly. Her hair was soaked and clung to her face, and her clothes were equally drenched. The quiver of her jaw suggested she was about to scream, or maybe cry in frustration.

America raised his hand to comfort her but let it fall without putting it on her shoulder. "Hey, don't feel bad. We still have enough food. We don't need to hunt yet. It just would have been nice if—"

Red eyes locked onto him and he froze, heart in his throat. Yang twisted away from him and punched a tree, sending chips of wood flying. They rained down around America but he dare not move, holding his breath as she stormed off.

It took a couple minutes for America to unfreeze. He followed reluctantly after her.

XXXXXXX

Another day, and it still rained. Cheerful banter became short grumbles. Beaming smiles became tired glares. Even Canada, Nora, Ruby, and Italy were becoming more and more terse in their speech, their laughs few and far between as they trekked through rain-soaked woods.

Ironically, only America managed to keep his spirits high. Probably because he could sense the abyss below him and feared what may happen if he fell into it. Besides, a little rain was nothing compared to everything else he had been through. At least he had his friends with him this time. Even if they were a bit…  _tired_.

He'd have to keep their spirits up.

"Hey, Ruby?"

She blinked at him, shivering from the cold.

He smiled. "Did I ever tell you about the kitchen incident?"

Pyrrha brightened and pulled out her old phone. "I have pictures."

France's features blanched. " _NON!_  Don't share  _my shame!_ "

Ruby laughed.

XXXXXXX

Three days later, it still rained.

"—so I came up with this awesome idea about a global superhero." America was saying. He chuckled fondly at the memory. "Yeah, it was kinda dumb but come on, a  _superhero_  to fight global warming? It would be awesome. Japan agreed but no one else did. I think Switzerland yelled at him. Do any of you guys remember—?"

"For the love of God, would you just  _shut up_  for  _one_   _second?_ " England snapped.

America flinched, shoulders hunching defensively. "I— uh." Green eyes glared at him and he lowered his gaze to the muddy ground. "Sorry."

England's scowl deepened and America raised his hands to chest level, ready to protect his throat and face. Before England could move, France stepped in front of America, gaze hard.

"Don't glare at him." he told England sharply.

England's glower morphed into a remorseful look. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I don't know what came over me."

America relaxed, lowering his hands. "It's fine. We're all under a lot of stress right now."

"Understatement." Blake grunted, ears flat against her drenched hair.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take." Italy moaned.

America felt misery beckon and shoved it away. "I'm sure the rain won't last much longer." he said optimistically.

A few of his friends grumbled in pessimistic disagreement.

Ren frowned and rubbed his forehead.

"Are you okay?" America asked him.

Ren lowered his hand and nodded. "I am alright. I merely have a headache."

XXXXXXX

Almost a week later, sunlight pierced the blanket of grey. America beamed at it, a smile stretching across his face, and lowered his drenched hood from his head.

"Hey, the rain stopped!" America cheered.

No one else joined in his celebration. Angry, miserable faces glared back at him.

America stared at his friends, aghast. "...Are you guys okay?"

"Fine." Yang grunted. She pulled at her soaked hair and growled.

France stood nearby with a similarly disgruntled air.

"Do you want me to try to dry you guys off?" America offered.

Romano glowered at him. "Oh, yeah. I bet you're warm and toasty because of your Semblance."

America winced but brushed off the habitually grumpy nation's ire. "Sorry. I don't trust my control. I don't want to accidentally burn you." He hoped they did not notice the way his voice trembled at the thought.

"You could have at least tried." Yang muttered. "My hair is  _ruined_."

Guilt pooled in America's gut but he shelved it. "Sorry about that. Uh, how about we build a fire to warm up and dry off a bit?"

Mutters of disgruntled agreement came from all around. America shifted uncomfortably but stayed with the group as they picked up firewood. They attempted to, anyway. Everything was soaked and muddy and the ground that was not mud was puddles of water.

Romano took one look at a particularly soggy branch and threw it back to the ground. "This is useless. Everything is too wet."

"Well if  _someone_  hadn't lost the Relic of Creation, we probably could have used it to create shelter." Weiss muttered.

America balked, stunned by the uncharacteristically rude remark.

Romano's glare snapped to Weiss. "What did you expect  _me_  to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe  _protect the Relic_." Weiss snarled, getting in his face.

Italy shoved his way between her and his brother. "Leave Romano alone." he snapped. "He tried his best."

"Oh, you mean he let the Relic be taken like a  _coward_?" Yang asked.

"He was trying to protect Nora." Jaune said lowly.

"Fat load of good that did." Yang muttered.

As Jaune's cold blue eyes narrowed and Romano's jaw clenched and quivered, America pushed between the arguing parties, hands raised. "Stop that. Arguing won't help anyone and I don't know why you're mad about this  _now_. The Relic of Creation is long gone. What's done is done."

Yang barely spared him a glance and shoved him aside. "Stay out of it."

America staggered, stunned by the strength behind her push, but caught his footing. He looked up to see that England and Australia had joined the angry standoff.

"Don't blame Romano." England snarled dangerously. "It is not his duty to protect your Godforsaken world."

"Oh, just because we're on a different planet than yours we can get screwed over then, huh?" Yang hissed.

"With all the atrocities you pulled, maybe you  _deserve_  it." England spat.

Yang's red eyes smoldered with rage. "We didn't do a fucking thing. It was Atlas and Salem, you  _asshole!_ "

America watched the exchange, mouth agape.

" _When did everyone turn into a jerk?"_  Vale asked, bewildered.

America shook his head wordlessly.  _Something is wrong._ A heavy hand landed on his arm and he cringed. "Ivan—"

"Even now you let your friends push you around." Russia mused. "When will you learn?" His grip tightened.

America winced in pain. "Ivan." he said as steadily as he could. "I am  _really_  not in the mood right now."

Russia bared his teeth and shoved him into a tree. America struck the bark and fell in a heap at its base, mouth open in shock. The thud of his body striking wood caught everyone's attention, and they gaped at him, momentarily forgetting their ire towards each other.

A beat of stunned silence passed, and Canada lunged for Russia, hands latching around the larger nation's throat. The others watched as Canada and Russia grappled on the forest floor, shocked into stillness. America was the only one to move.

" _Stop it!_  What are you  _doing_?"

A stray kick caught him in the jaw and he staggered, wincing. Neither Canada nor Russia seemed to care, continuing to scuffle as the others watched with annoyed, angry, or weary expressions.

What the  _hell_  was wrong with them? Yes, they were wet, tired, hungry, and cold, but that did not give them the excuse to be at each others' throats. America had half a mind to shock some sense into the lot of them and maybe smack them upside the heads with Cobalt Striker but first he had to stop Canada and Russia from killing each other.

Without warning, Ren grunted and fell to the ground, hands to his temples. Nora sped to his side and glared at the person closest to him— who just happened to be Oscar.

"What did you  _do_?" she accused.

"I didn't do anything." Oscar said.

Unlike the others, he was notably nervous. Nora's eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet, reaching for her hammer. Oscar backed up a step, hands raised defensively.

"Don't you two start, too!" America shouted.

Nora glared at him. "He hurt Renny!"

"I didn't." Oscar whispered, sounding dazed. He flinched, clutching at his head. "My  _head_..."

Ren jerked to his feet, shoving Nora away. He stumbled over to Russia, grabbing his arm. Russia froze in place and the anger faded from his expression, only to be replaced by a confused look. Canada socked him in the jaw but America grabbed his brother's arm, pulling him back.

" _Stop_  it, Mattie. What's gotten into you?"

"Russia shouldn't be here." Canada snarled. "He's a monster. He hurt you."

America winced, glancing at the nation that stood calmly in Ren's hold with a distinctly befuddled expression on his pale face.

"Russia isn't a monster." His gaze darted to the people who watched the fight with varying degrees of disinterest.  _Something is very wrong._  "He honestly thinks he's helping. You know how he can get—"

Canada violently yanked himself free of America's hold. Violet eyes pinned him, burning with an unnatural anger that could not look more out of place on his twin's gentle face.

"That's not the problem at all.  _You_  are.  _You're_  the one who's letting him walk all over you." Canada growled. "Once you would have kicked his ass for touching you but now you let him use you as a punching bag. You're  _pathetic_. Would you learn some damn self-respect already?"

America stared wordlessly at his brother. There was no way Canada was  _that_  upset because of a little rain. There was also no way he truly thought what he said. America knew his brother, and he would  _never_  act like this. A crazy idea wormed its way into America's mind and he rolled with it. He dropped his head, avoiding Canada's burning gaze.

"You're right. I'm pathetic." he mumbled, voice purposely soft. "I'm sorry I've been like this. If you're mad at me, you can take it out on  _me_  if you want. I'm used to it."

Canada's eyes jerked to his face, but instead of showing horror, remorse, or giving angry denials to reject America's statements, he remained silent. His fist clenched audibly, knuckles cracking.

America tensed as his words did  _not_  snap his twin out of it like he had intended. "Mattie—"

A fist met his cheek and his head snapped to the side. Completely unprepared, his legs buckled and he fell to the ground in a dazed, pained stupor. His eyes went round and he raised a trembling hand to his aching cheek, already feeling it swell. Above him, Canada froze in place, fist still raised, and horror finally swallowed the anger in his gaze.

Beside the violet-eyed twin, Weiss's entire body stiffened, skin going white. Ruby inhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her eye. The others did not seem to notice what happened, having gone back to arguing among themselves. Even England hardly spared America and Canada a glance, more intent on spitting insults back and forth with Yang.

America forced himself to his feet, heart in his throat, and absently touched his smarting cheek.  _Something is_ _very,_ _ **very**_ _wrong._ He planted on a smile. "I— uh. I should go get more firewood. To help warm you guys up." he said awkwardly. "Maybe then you'll be less c-cranky, haha."

The stuttered word caught in his throat as he realized it may be taken as an insult but no one attacked him for it. Canada was still frozen in place like he had been turned to stone. His violet eyes were too wide as shock gave way to guilty remorse. Weiss and Ruby were in similar straits, the former kneading her forehead while the latter furiously rubbed her eye. The others were not nearly as affected.

"Don't get kidnapped." England muttered caustically.

America ignored him— and the flare of hurt in his chest— and walked away at a casual pace.

As soon as he was out of sight he started running, putting some distance between himself and his friends. His mind scrambled in panicked paranoia but he shoved it away, mindful of the woods that could be hiding anything inside them.

He finally halted in a batch of trees and sat down, breathing heavily. Around him, water clung to the bright green leaves, reflecting the sunlight and making them glow gold. He could not enjoy the view, not with dread settled so deep in his bones.

America laid his head against a tree trunk, staring at the brightening sky.  _Vale, what_ _ **was**_ _that? Everyone was so_ _ **angry**_ _._ _ **Unnaturally**_ _angry._

" _I noticed. I… I don't know_ _ **what**_ _that was."_  she said, sounding disturbed.

_Could it be a Semblance?_

" _I don't know."_

_A hallucination?_

" _I don't know."_

_A bad dream?_

" _I doubt that."_

An idea popped into his mind.  _Could the area be cursed?_

" _Maybe?"_ she questioned helplessly _. "I_ _ **don't know**_ _."_

America nibbled on his lip, heart sinking.  _Didn't Ozpin tell Oscar there were ruins around here? What about some weird cursed temple that turns people against each other or something?_

" _That may be a possibility."_  Vale murmured.

 _Wait, cursed temples are a thing?_  America demanded.

" _Yes."_  Vale said shortly.

America grimaced.  _Great._ He brought his knees up to his chest and clutched at his hair with trembling hands.  _Mattie hit me. I only said he could hit me to try to snap him out of it. You know how he gets when I get all self-deprecating. I thought he'd go back to normal. But instead he_ _ **actually**_ _hit me._

He could not decide what was worse: his shock that it happened or his hurt.

" _Unless all your friends drank jackass juice for breakfast, I doubt it was his intention."_  Vale said bluntly.

 _I know,_  America said, exhaling shakily. He leaned back, shutting his eyes, and chuckled weakly.  _I'm surprised you aren't screeching that they're betraying me._

" _Your family loves you."_  Vale said matter-of-factly, tone almost bitter.  _"They'd burn the world down to keep you from being hurt."_

 _Yeah._  America touched his smarting cheek. He hoped that the bruise would fade before he saw Canada again.

" _Regardless, their negativity will be a problem. They may start attracting Grimm."_ Vale sighed.  _"Whatever is making them like this, I hope we find the source soon."_

Foliage rustled.

Wary of Grimm and his potentially-cursed friends, America opened his eyes.

He was no longer alone.

And suddenly, his friends' apparent personality changes made  _way_  too much sense.

" _I take it back."_  Vale whispered.

America barely heard her as his thoughts screeched to a halt. He realized what must have happened—  _It must have it must have it must_. He must be asleep—  _Asleep, he was asleep_ _ **this wasn't real**_ _._  He could not be awake—  _Safe and asleep and not real._  It was impossible for him to be in the waking world. He must be in a nightmare because the alternative was too horrifying to be real—  _Please let me be asleep please please oh God_ _ **please**_ _—_

He was in the middle of the woods.

He was alone, having separated from his group because they were acting in a worrying manner.

He was tired and sore from days of trudging through rainy, muddy woods.

His friends were acting unnaturally aggressive towards him and each other, as if all their negative thoughts and emotions— and maybe some that were not theirs— had been enhanced.

And Salem, the Queen of the Grimm, was standing right in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter where I hope you all were going "WTF why is everyone acting so weird?" as it went on. It's because they are acting weird. An emotion-manipulator's presence (specifically a negative emotion manipulator's presence) will do that to you. I know it's extreme, but that's the point. I needed their attitudes to be screaming "Something is not right!" to America. Because if everyone is acting strangely except him… He'll retreat to figure things out.


	20. Face to Fake Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark chapter. Disturbing descriptions.

A part of America's brain that might actually be Vale was screaming. The rest of him stood frozen in place, gaping stupidly at the Queen of the Grimm with his heart in his throat. There was no other possible identity for the woman in front of him. If the red eyes, snow-white skin, and black cloak were not sufficient proof, the thick Grimm-like veins visible on her arms and face were indicator enough.

" _We're dead."_ Vale whispered. _"We're dead we're dead we're_ _ **dead**_ _—"_

Salem raised a hand.

America flinched, stumbling back a step. His back hit the tree and he fumbled for Cobalt Striker.

"Please do not draw your weapon." Salem said. "I do not want to harm you unless I must, child."

Her voice was not what America expected. He expected an evil tone dripping with malice and promises of a grisly death. Instead her voice was calm and methodical in a regal and  _almost_  motherly way, more like the voice of a kind teacher than the cruel Queen of the Grimm. Yet the red eyes that pinned America in place were anything but motherly. They burned with an unsettling amalgamation of unwavering focus and serene excitement, staring straight through his soul with the sharpness of an icy blade.

"Really? You've hurt me plenty already." America croaked before his brain could catch up to his mouth.

Salem did not become a roaring monster to slaughter him for his impudence. Instead she curiously inclined her head, as if they were on opposing sides of a friendly debate. "May I ask how?"

America forced himself to swallow. "You ordered Cinder to steal Vale's Aura. You attacked Beacon. Tyrian hunted and attacked my brother. Your Grimm are attacking my cities right now—"

"I am attacking  _Vale's_  cities." Salem interrupted. "I have left yours alone. I have no quarrel with you, or your world."

" _For now,"_  went unsaid.

America's hands clenched. His fingers pressed against sweaty palms "I'm kind of Vale at the moment so it's all the same to me."

"Indeed." Salem said lightly and suddenly  _ohmyGodtheQueenoftheGrimmwasstanding_ _ **rightinfrontofhimwhattheFU—**_

He blinked and Salem had retreated to gracefully sit down on a tree stump ten feet from him, hands folded neatly in her lap. With the bright trees, colorful flowers, and golden sunlight shimmering around her, America might think she was some weird fairy tale princess or a Fairy Godmother. Oh, how he wished he could delude himself that hard.

" _Maybe she's a hologram."_  Vale babbled.  _"She's a hologram, and she's not really here. Or we fell asleep and are having a nightmare. This isn't real. It_ _ **isn't**_ _real."_

Her panic jabbed at America's mind and Salem's lips curled upward, reminiscent of a mother who knew their child was reaching into the cookie jar. "Vale fears me."

Amber froze in America's mind, panic becoming full-blown terror. America gritted his teeth and slammed the door shut between their emotions before her fear could infect him.

Salem's head tipped. The bangles in her snow white hair jingled softly. "You do not fear me."

"No." America agreed steadily.

Cold black-and-red eyes studied their next meal with patient pleasantry, like she was surprised but intrigued that her prey could perform tricks. "But you fear for them."

America wisely remained silent.

"Do not worry, child." Salem said gently. "I will not harm them unless they interfere. I do not like to kill unless I have no other choice." Her eyes slid towards a specific section of the woods. "And do not think they have turned on you. They truly love you, child. But bitterness, anger, and resentment are so easy to enhance and create. Under my guidance, the tiniest spark can become a roaring flame."

America stayed mute. Shock finally gave way to survival instincts and he scrambled for a plan. He could not defeat Salem. If he could, Ozpin would have sent Vale after her long ago. His only chance was to run but he had a feeling he would not make it far before she grabbed him.

Why hadn't she grabbed him yet?

"If you are wondering why I have not taken you, it is because I cannot at this exact moment." Salem explained pleasantly.

America prayed she was sensing his emotions and making an educated guess, not reading his thoughts. Again, red eyes pinned him in place, trapping him within their gaze. They were not hungry like Atlas's eyes had been— seeking to tear and devour until nothing was left— but had a similar, single-minded drive to see him in her grasp.

"I am— believe it or not— simply here to talk." she claimed.

"And I'm the King of the Unicorns." America blurted  _to the freaking_   _Queen of the Grimm_.

" _You're going to get us killed."_  Vale whimpered.

Salem remained poised and serene. "Well, that may be true from a certain point of view. You do have that one unicorn that remains with you. She is a truly beautiful creature."

America's mouth went dry.

"I can see through my Grimm's eyes, child." Salem reminded him gently, as if he had simply gotten a question wrong on some homework.

_But there_ _**were** _ _no Grimm near Uni._

_Uni's_ _**at my house.** _

America shoved away his panic with an exhale.

Salem's lips curled the slightest bit. "I admire your control, child. Not many can push their fear away like you."

"I learned the hard way." America said, because his brain refused to come up with a plan other than  _keep talking and stall for time_.

"I suppose you have." Salem said.

Was the compassion in her voice real or fake? No, it was  _fake_. She was trying to trick him.

_Don't fall for it, America._

"But as I said, I have no quarrel with you, or even Vale." Finally, the motherly tone faded, slashed away by a sharp edge. "Only  **Ozpin**."

Her voice deepened to a guttural snarl and America froze in place, nothing more than a rabbit in the presence of a feral, rabid wolf. Glowing red eyes bore into him—  _there_  was the hunger— but the gleam instantly faded.

"My apologies. I did not intend to frighten you, child." She adjusted position slightly, simply moving her arms, and seemed ignorant to the way America went rigid. "Did Ozpin ever tell you what he did to me?"

"No." America said before he could stop himself.

His instincts were split in three between 'flee', 'fight', and 'humor the demon queen so we hopefully don't die horribly.' He settled on the 'humor her' option for now, scrambling for ideas.

He remembered his Scroll was in his pocket.

"Of course he wouldn't." Salem murmured. Her gaze locked onto him. "If I told you I only want the Relics to kill Ozpin, would you believe me?"

"No." America admitted. He forced himself to meet her serene red eyes. "Even if you did, you wouldn't stop with just killing Ozpin. Not with all four Relics at your disposal."

He blinked, and Salem was in front of him, face mere inches from his. His breath caught in his throat as  _something_ curled around his waist, holding him in place. The hold was neither tight nor painful, but both of her hands were free and in view. He dare not look away to see what was wrapped around him.

"Do you know what will happen to you if you do not assist me?" Salem asked. "What will happen to your world? Your family?"

"Already with the threats?" America breathed.

"I am not the greatest threat to you." Salem demurred. "Again, I have no quarrel with your world."

"Then why did you send Grimm there?" America asked.

"Because I needed Vale." she said simply. She laid a hand on his arm and her touch was icy cold. "With the Relics, I can harmlessly separate Vale's Aura from you."

_No you can't_ , America thought, thinking of England's spell.

As if she sensed his thoughts, Salem's eyes flicked to his face. "You do not need to die for this world, child."

She gently cupped his bruised cheek and every one of America's instincts screamed at him to fight or flee. He remained locked in place, swallowing his fear, because one of the few claims he could trust from Ozpin was that if he was too afraid, Salem would magnify it. Just like she had magnified his friends' and Canada's negative feelings.

"You're lying." he croaked, heart hammering in his chest. "You know you can't separate Vale's Aura from me. If you could, you wouldn't waste time trying to convince me to go with you."

What was stopping her from whisking him to her land, or Beacon, or directly outside the Vault? Surely she had a way to teleport there. What was stopping her? What could it  _be?_

"Once I have all the Relics I could free you." Salem claimed. Her hand remained on his cheek, icy fingers brushing close to his green eye, and he shuddered. Her red eyes searched him knowingly. "And I do not mean that I would free you through death. I would relieve you of your curse and let you go home. I would destroy my forces on Earth, and leave your world in peace once more."

"And what about Remnant?" America asked.

She was silent a beat too long.

America chuckled weakly. "See? I  _know_  you wouldn't stop with Ozpin. You don't want to just destroy him. You want to destroy the world he fights for and maybe humanity as a whole. If you only cared about Ozpin, you could have retrieved the Relic without attacking the City of Vale during the Vytal Festival Tournament, or tried to blow up Haven. You wouldn't have Watts order the Atlesian Knights to massacre civilians. If you did not intend to destroy humanity and civilization, you  _wouldn't_  care about dividing the Kingdoms to weaken them. You wouldn't have sent Grimm to Earth in the first place."

And just like that, he could see through the mask. Just like the facade of maturity and righteousness that Atlas wore, Salem wore a mask that hid something much darker and more malicious. For a moment, it cracked, revealing something cold and calculating.

The thing tightened around America's legs and he cried out, falling to his knees as black tendrils slipped down his thighs and up his arms. They circled his chest and calves, creeping down to his ankles and up towards his throat and he clamped his mouth shut, praying they would not force their way in. As if they sensed the obstruction, the tendrils slowed, sliding slowly but steadily upward. In contrast to their cold touch, something warm expanded in his chest and America's breathing remained slow and calm. Salem might have frowned, but the expression was gone too quickly for him to be sure.

"I'd hoped you would accept a peaceful solution." Salem said with apparent regret.

"Oh  _fuck off_." America snarled, straining as the tendrils crept up his neck. "You can preach your so-called 'kindness' all you want. I've heard that bullshit enough times already to know when it's  _fake_."

The last of the 'regret' fled Salem's features, leaving a sharp and unforgiving look behind. America had never seen something like it. He had seen hatred, and anger, and remorselessness, and yet on Salem it seemed sharper,  _purer_ , as if those emotions made up her very core. She was not a human, no matter how close she was to looking like one. In the end, she was a  _predator_ , one that sought to destroy everything in her path.

"And here I thought you were unable to read others." Salem said coldly. "You are more intelligent than I gave you credit for. I see that you did something so I cannot take your Aura."

The shadowy tendrils slipped over America's mouth, prodding at his lips, but he kept them pressed together, denying them entry.

"That tongue of yours will only get you into trouble, however." Salem said with her usual serenity. Her voice hardened. "You should learn to mind it."

America's muffled curse was cut off as the tendrils pushed into his mouth. His thoughts screeched back and forth between horror and fear as the tendrils tried to force their way down his throat. If she wanted him dead for transport she could snap his neck right now. Was she worried he might not survive it? Or was she trying to  _infect_  him with Grimm substance or something? Could she use it to control his negative emotions if it was inside him?

America had no intention of finding out. He struggled to breathe through his nose, holding his tongue over the back of his throat and refusing to swallow any of the black gunk. He already had enough problems. He did not need any Grimm creepiness or more psychological torture,  _no_  thank you.

" _Create an air bubble in your throat to keep it out."_  Vale said shakily.  _"It's going to hurt but..."_

America was already on it. The pressure was uncomfortable and took more of his breath away, but the pressure helped keep the tendrils out of his throat and only in his mouth. The tendrils tasted  _vile_ , like ashes and blood and cold and death. He noticed that the substance was almost ooze-like, contributing to his theory that it was some kind of Grimm goo. He cringed in fear and disgust but kept the air pressure up and his muscles locked as tightly as possible, careful not to swallow.

Salem noticed his resistance and her eyes narrowed. The tendrils pressed against the back of his throat and he gagged, writhing painfully as his vision blackened. He  _might_  need some help. The others had to arrive soon, right? He sent them all a message.

They had to be on their way.

They'd reach him.

They'd save him this time.

Maybe a minute passed. Maybe twenty. Yet it felt like hours as he struggled not to drown in the darkness. Salem watched him writhe with the patience of someone who knew it was only a matter of time before they won, but America stubbornly held on, because  _surely someone would come…?_

No one raced out of the bushes to his rescue.

They were probably still under Salem's negative thrall.

He was alone.

The tendrils spread out, blocking his airway, and his vision darkened further and his thoughts became foggy. So much for Salem and her supposed offer. No one who decided to do something like  _this_  could be trusted to keep promises of peace. He felt the black ooze slide an inch down his throat but his body could not force the invasive substance out.

" _Alfred,_ _ **USE THE SPELL**_ _!"_  Vale screamed.

It took America a moment to realize she was crying. Her emotions were still cut off from his. But she was right. The spell. He still had the sleeping spell. He could use the spell and remain unconscious rather than choke to death on Grimm-gunk and wake in captivity with a whole new boatload of problems.

But that would mean resigning himself to capture.

_**No.** _

Fire burned in America's heart and he forced his teeth  _down_.

Salem may be the Queen of the Grimm, but even Grimm could feel pain. She gasped and stepped back, startled more than hurt, and stared at him incredulously.

"Did you  _bite_  me?"

Lightning enveloped her in its burning light. The blast threw America back and he hit the dirt, the tendrils turning to ash around him. He scrambled to his feet and vomited black bile onto the dirt, throat aching. He ignored the feeling and blindly sent a blast of fire outward. A few trees burst into flames but America did not care, stumbling fearlessly into the inferno.

He only made it a few steps before he faltered, vomiting again. He acknowledged the speckles of red among the bile and dragged himself up, hobbling in what he hoped was the right direction. Shadows latched around his legs, bringing him down and Salem rose from the flames like a demon out of hell, unperturbed except for a slight sneer.

"I wanted to avoid injuring you, but I suppose I'll have to take a page from Watts' book and be more direct." she said levelly.

She raised a hand, and her nails sharpened into a Nevermore's talons. The tendrils wrapped around America's ankles and wrists, pulling him flat with his hands tied above his head. America flashed back to all the times he had been tied down in the lab and his breath froze in his throat.

" _Help_."

America barely realized he had voiced the plea, too used to being gagged before dissection to realize he was able to speak. Two people— if Salem could even be considered a person— heard his cry, but only one cared.

Vale's fear vanished.  _"America, cover yourself in lightning."_

America could barely breathe. He struggled frantically, bucking his hips to try to break free, but Salem wrapped tendrils around his waist and throat, keeping him still. His heart pounded a frantic beat and his breathing stuttered with fear.

Salem smiled. "There you are, child. If you're afraid, it will be over quicker. I cannot promise it will not hurt, however."

America tried to burn the tendrils but the one around his neck tightened, strangling him.  _C-Can't—_

" _Yes, you can."_  Vale said levelly.  _"Just bring the lightning to the surface._ _ **Feel**_ _the electricity and guide it over your skin."_

America shut his eyes, struggling to comply. The flames flared easily but they were snuffed out by the suffocating tendrils before they could burn. He needed something subtle and— Damn it, Yang.—  _shocking_  to catch Salem off guard.

"Stop moving." Salem demanded. "I'd hate to cleave your heart accidentally."

" _Think of a thunderstorm."_  Vale said with surprising patience.  _"Smell the ozone and feel the hair on your arms and nape tingle."_

With his eyes shut, America could imagine the darkness of a storm. He had seen plenty of rain in the past week, but he needed lightning, not water. He recalled the way the earth trembled with every strike of lighting, of the terrifying  _crack_  when a bolt struck close by.

Slowly, his body relaxed, and the hair on his arms prickled.

"So you can listen to reason." Salem said, pleased. "Good. I promise to retrieve you soon."

She lowered her hand to his chest, over his heart. As soon as the talons touched him, Salem was blasted back as the air itself burned with an echoing  **crack**. America's skin sparked, rippling with electricity, and he staggered to his feet. He settled into an unsteady stance, raising Cobalt Striker in trembling hands. Salem eyed him, unimpressed as darkness swarmed around her—

"FREEZERBURN!"

Ice exploded, covering the burning clearing and blocking America's view. A blur of red surrounded him and he stumbled, twenty feet away from Salem with Ruby at his side. The silver-eyed girl glared at the Queen of the Grimm, scythe in hand. Salem stared back coolly but Ruby met her gaze without a flinch.

"DOUBLE ICESTORM!" Ruby bellowed.

Glyphs appeared behind Weiss and Winter, accompanied by spear-like shards of ice. Canada flicked his hands and the spears shot through the speed-increasing glyphs like bullets from a machine gun. Many struck the earth but some hit Salem, who raised her arms defensively. They bounced off her, shattering on impact, and she staggered, eyes narrowing distastefully. Shadows flared, shattering the remaining ice before it could reach her, and snapped towards the Schnee sisters.

"KNIGHT SHIELD!" Ruby commanded. Petals floated around her, swirling lazily.

France jumped in front of the Schnee's, glowing white with Jaune's Aura, and the shadows launched back at Salem. For the first time, shock crossed her features and she was forced to evade her own attack, stepping back. France's Aura rippled and he crumpled to his knees, breathing heavily. Ruby didn't let up as petals flitted faster around her small frame.

"GREEN GRENADE! BOOMERYANG!"

Nora fired at Salem, and a green barrier trapped her with the grenades. The bombs exploded inside the compressed area and England dropped the shield, leaving the smoke around their enemy. Australia rushed in, then ducked, revealing Yang behind him.

The nation swiped low, knocking Salem off her feet, and Yang struck high, sending her crashing through a tree. She stood but was forced to dodge a stab from Blake. No command was needed as the Faunus and Japan worked as one, dodging and diving agilely around the swarm of tendrils.

Ruby gritted her teeth, quivering with strain. "Redflower, ready?"

Russia halted in place and hefted his axe. " _Ready_."

Ruby burst forward in a pulse of speed, picking up Russia and shattering trees in her wake. Together they shot towards Salem, faster than America had ever seen the girl go, and a blur of yellow reformed in the storm of red and tan. America watched, mouth falling open, as Russia's axe sliced clean through Salem's midsection. Red eyes widened briefly... before narrowing in annoyance. They locked onto America, and the message within their blood-like depths was clear.

" _You'll regret this."_

Salem faded into black dust without a word, disappearing into the wind.

America's knees buckled and he fell to the dirt, staring mutely at the charred spot where the Queen of the Grimm once stood. Canada rushed over and Ruby staggered to his side and fell beside the twins, breathing harshly.

"...Did we win?" she panted.

"I think she's gone." Nora's stunned expression became one of pure euphoria. "We won.  _We beat Salem!_ "

"That wasn't Salem."

A single sentence killed their joy before it could be celebrated. Ren rose from his spot near the edge of the new clearing, where America belatedly realized he had been for the entirety of the fight. Italy, Romano, and Sterlyn crept out of the woods, the last with Penny across his shoulders. With their whole group reunited, they all turned to stare at Ozpin, who looked back with blank golden eyes.

"That was not Salem." he repeated. "More accurately, it was her in spirit, but  _not_  in body. That was merely her using a Grimm's body to project herself here, with far more limited powers."

Comprehension dawned on America. "That's why she didn't take me." he rasped. "She was like an astral projection. One that couldn't teleport." He laid his head tiredly on Canada's shoulder and his twin gripped his hand. He distantly noticed Canada's were trembling.

"Indeed." A tendon in Ozpin's jaw quivered. "Apparently Salem has learned how to overtake her Grimm and project her form and powers through them." His gaze grew shadowed. "I fear she will grow more proficient and powerful with every attempt."

"Are you saying any Grimm we fight could randomly turn into  _that_?" Yang demanded.

"I cannot say for certain." Ozpin answered evasively. "It must take some amount of time and energy for Salem to project herself like this."

"Who  _cares_  about that?" Australia snarled. "What I want to know is how the hell she found us. We haven't run into Grimm for the  _entire time_  we were being assholes."

His words echoed, fading desolately in the quiet woods. There was a beat of silence, broken only by the wind and rustle of the leaves. America uncomfortably recalled his reason for going off on his own and winced.

Blake broke the tension before it could suffocate them. "If that was a weaker version of Salem, how will any of us stand a chance against the real thing?"

...Or maybe she might just make the tension worse.

Ozpin opened his mouth, and closed it just as abruptly. "I do not have all the answers. But I know you will pull through when it matters."

Ruby lowered her head.

"...That's not encouraging, coming from you." Yang said flatly.

Ozpin averted his gaze. An awkward silence fell over them again, and America realized they were all staring at him. Actually, they were all trying  _not_  to stare at him, almost like children who had done something bad. He absently touched his bruised cheek and cut to the chase.

"How are you okay now? How were you okay for the fight? I thought Salem was magnifying your negative emotions to keep you away."

Canada shrank in on himself, staring at the ground. Yang and England avoided each other's eyes. Weiss scuffed her foot on the ground.

"Ren shielded us. And we're all cool now that she's gone." Nora explained.

"I sensed something was amiss with my emotions, but I did not act upon my suspicions until today." Ren bowed his head. "I apologize."

"It's okay." America walked up to Canada and hugged him. His twin jumped, startled into meeting his gaze, and America spoke directly to him. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't yourselves at the time."

Canada bit his lip, violet eyes swimming with guilt. Russia frowned at America, expression unreadable.

America ignored the larger nation and poked Canada in the chest. "Stop that. The self-blame game isn't as fun as it sounds. Keep it up and I will smother you with affection until you're sick of me."

Canada's lips twitched. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

America responded by hugging him… and poking him in the side. Repeatedly. Canada squeaked and wiggled in his grasp.

"Quit it, Al!"

"Someone's  _tickl-ish~_ " America sang.

He jabbed his twin in the side, eliciting a shriek from Canada. Yang cackled, approving of his sibling's punishment while Weiss sighed. As the atmosphere relaxed, America's heartbeat finally slowed. Salem was gone, and things were normal again. The sun was shining, no one was angry, or bitter, or dead, and they were all okay.

They were  _okay_.

Vale brought him crashing back down to reality. _"Alfred, what about the ooze?"_

America went rigid and shoved Canada away from him. His twin hit the dirt, violet eyes wide and hurt, but America scooted away from him, trembling hands raised.

"Oh God oh God  _OhGod._  Don't touch me." he babbled. "You can't— Oh God, I might be infected."

" _Infected_?" England demanded.

America's gorge rose as he remembered the feeling of the ooze in his mouth. "Salem tried to force this Grimm ooze down my throat." he choked.

Jaune turned green. "' _Grimm ooze_ '?"

Italy looked ready to faint.

"Yeah. It was this oozy tendril-like black stuff. When I pissed Salem off she shoved it in my mouth. It was pushed pretty far down. I used Vale's Semblance to keep it out." America shuddered, rubbing his aching throat. "I don't think I swallowed any."

"Ew ew ew ew." Nora moaned, skin nearly as green as Jaune's.

Weiss looked revolted. "Why would Salem do that?"

"She likely meant to infect Alfred with a Grimm parasite." Ren murmured.

"Like  _Emerald_?" Blake breathed, ears flat against her head.

America's stomach lurched and he glanced nervously as his tan, black-vein-free arms. His breathing sharpened and he stumbled towards a bush. Without hesitation, he forced a finger down his throat and emptied the contents of his stomach. He heard France's disgusted exclamation but ignored him, doing it again. He did not see any black among the red-speckled bile but he had to be  _sure_. He did it again, even as his stomach cramped and his throat burned—

Canada grabbed his hand. "Stop it, Al. You're  _hurting_  yourself."

" _DON'T TOUCH ME!_ " America screamed, yanking his hand out of his twin's grasp. His stomach cramped and he hunched over painfully. "Crap..."

England appeared at his side, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"Alfred,  _breathe_." England commanded. "Breathe with me."

America shook his head wildly, struggling to pull free of his brother's grasp. England refused to let go.

"I have a spell to check if there's any malevolent foreign matter in your body." he said calmly. "Just breathe with me first.  _Breathe_."

America's eyes locked onto his. "You have a s-spell?" he wheezed.

"Yes." England said gently. "Give me a moment to draw the array. Stay with Matthew."

America flinched away from him. "But what if—"

"If Salem had to go to such measures to administer it, I'm sure it isn't contagious through contact." England said levelly. "Matthew will be fine."

Canada nodded in agreement. America reluctantly stayed with his brother, leaning away when he tried to hug him. Canada's arms fell to his sides and his expression grew pained, but he did not protest. England opened his spell book and began angrily throwing sticks out of his way, carving something into the ground.

Ozpin frowned. "We don't have time to—"

"We have time to check if there is a  _parasite_  inside my brother." England snapped.

He continued drawing as the others shuffled about, with Sterlyn still carrying Penny. America wondered what she would have to say once she woke up and realized how much trouble he had gotten into during her shut down period. She might blow a gasket. Literally.

Did she have gaskets?

Unable to find the answer, America giggled hysterically. Pyrrha sat beside him and gripped his hand. She did not release him when he flinched, instead looking at England as she gave his fingers a comforting squeeze.

"What is this array meant to do?" Pyrrha asked.

"As I said, it will check for malevolent foreign matter." England said. "It is usually meant to look for demonic energies and evil spirits. I researched it in case we encountered an enemy with a possession Semblance."

" _Please_  no." Yang said tightly. "We have enough people with hellish mind-screwing powers to deal with as it is."

"We still don't know Tyrian's Semblance." Weiss mentioned.

"If his Semblance is possession I'm going to say screw it and burn the entire countryside." Nora muttered.

"Alfred, it's ready." England interrupted.

He stood beside the completed array and tossed his stick into the woods. The design was nothing like the one he had used to sever Canada's connection with Mantle's people, which helped put America at ease, if only slightly. He swallowed nervously and the involuntary action hurt, his throat still aching from the ooze. He laid on the array and waited anxiously. England circled around him and began speaking in an ancient language. Blue-tinged light glowed and Vale shifted nervously.

_It's okay_ , America soothed her and himself.

The blue light closed over them, turning blue-green and America focused on breathing evenly. This was magic, not Aura, and not the kind of magic that would hurt him. That did not stop him from feeling queasy as the light slid over his skin, searching, before it rose above him in the shape of his body.

"It's like an x-ray." Nora breathed.

"Whoa." Ruby whispered, awed.

Ozpin watched the procedure intently. No, he was not looking at the scan. He was staring at America with an unreadable expression on his face.

Vale took a shuddering breath.  _"We're not compromised. We're not compromised. We're not compromised—"_

America ignored her mantra and scanned the blue-green form floating above him but could not spot anything out of place. It was less like an x-ray and more like a complete internal scan, flicking between views of his bones and organs. The heart beat in time with his own and he scrutinized it extremely carefully, searching for whatever might be hiding there.

"The substance would appear black." England informed him. The stiffness in his shoulders eased. "You're clear." Green eyes scanned the others. "Did anyone receive any injuries or cuts?"

A chorus of "No"s answered him.

England remained unconvinced. "Are you  _certain_? Now is  _not_  the time to hide an injury. We may be dealing with an enemy capable of transferring parasitic entities through wounds."

A few faces were ashen and Italy looked faint but once again, everyone gave a negative. The blue light faded and the array went dead. America took a shuddering breath and sat up. Gold caught his attention and he locked eyes with Ozpin. The neutral expression he bore could not look more out of place on Oscar's young face. America tore his gaze away and hugged England tightly, burying his face in his shoulder.

"Thank you." he mumbled.

England patted his hair. "No other energies will possess you under my watch." he said lowly.

Again, America recalled the suffocating pain of the Grimm substance. He shuddered and rubbed at his throat. "Don't promise." he whispered. "You know you can't promise that."

England's teeth clenched audibly.

"He's right." Canada sat on America's other side, almost as pale as his twin. "That was our closest miss yet."

"Penny was correct. We've been too lenient while guarding you." Pyrrha said abruptly. "Worse, we've been  _stupid_. We haven't been taking your safety seriously."

The other members of JNPR and RWBY glanced at each other uncertainly.

"You've been doing enough." America said hastily. "Look, I don't expect you to bodyguard me."

"But we should be. _I_  should be." Pyrrha's green eyes were hard. "Like I'm  _supposed_  to be."

America balked. "Pyrrha, you only became my bodyguard because—"

"I became your bodyguard to protect you, not just to have an excuse and something to do." Pyrrha said firmly. "This is not a laughing matter anymore. Salem can appear almost  _anywhere_ , and we cannot let her take you."

"Or infect you with a Grimm parasite." Blake murmured.

America's skin crawled.

"I volunteer Team JNPR to be Alfred's bodyguards." Jaune said suddenly. "Officially, as a  _mission_."

His wording got to the other Huntsmen and they nodded in agreement. Weiss glanced at Ruby, who spoke not a word, then inclined her head to America.

"Team RWBY accepts this mission as well."

America's stomach sank into his shoes. "Guys, you don't have to—"

"Yes, we do." Yang said. She dragged a hand through her hair. "Look, we're not saying we'll be distant hardasses all the time. But we need to keep you safe. We're Huntsmen and Huntresses, and your protection is our priority."

America's stomach churned. His fists clenched. "So what? You'll dive between me and  _Salem_?"

"Yes." Pyrrha said.

America trembled. He could not say whether it was from terror or rage.

Weiss sighed. "Look, if this is some weird privacy thing—"

"You think  _that's_  my problem?" America demanded. "You just told me  _you'd_   _DIE_   _for me!_ "

His screamed declaration echoed in the air, dying a miserable death among the trees.

"Alfred." Pyrrha said softly. "If we aren't willing to die for you, thousands of others may be killed instead."

America could not deal with this. Not when he had run into the Queen of the Grimm, nearly been captured again, and got Grimm-parasite ooze shoved down his throat, making him feel all kinds of dirty and violated. He swallowed another gag and shook his head.

"We're not talking about this."

Pyrrha's lips thinned. "Al—"

"We're  _not talking about this._ " America repeated tersely.

Apparently no one taught Nora the meaning of 'drop the subject'. "So  _you_  can be willing to sacrifice yourself but we can't?"

" _Not_  for me." America snarled.

"But you'd sacrifice yourself for us." Ren countered levelly.

"Yes." America spat. "Be—" He cut himself off just in time before he could say  _"Because I'm the only one who's supposed to die."_

Ren started, surprised by his vehemence, and apparently could not think of a reply.

Vale was similarly disconcerted.  _"Al..._ "

" _Enough_." Canada said quietly but firmly. "The last thing we need is to attract Grimm to us right now."

"But Salem can find us anyway." Yang muttered. "Somehow."

"What do we do if Salem gets tired of possessing Grimm and the real thing decides to drop by?" Nora asked.

The unease that washed over them was so heavy America was surprised the Grimm Dragon did not swoop down to attack them all.

"We'll fight." Ruby said, speaking for the first time since Ozpin's revelation. Her hands clenched, quivering visibly, but when she looked up, there was nothing but resolve in her face. "There may be one thing that might help us beat Salem. The  _real_  Salem."

Something in her face or voice unnerved Yang, whose eyes dulled to a worried blue. "Ruby…?"

Ruby ignored her sister, eye locking onto the ancient soul that possessed the body of a young boy.

"Ozpin." Ruby said. "Teach me how to use Silver Eyes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was a doozy, wasn't it? :)
> 
> Oh, and if anyone thought "Ship names?!" during the fight scene... *smacks you over the head with a magazine* NO.


	21. Swift Retribution

The Beowolf made a mad dash towards the treeline, black paws pounding on the earth, but a bullet clipped its skull, bringing it down. A sharp bash from China's tonfa snuffed out its life and as silence fell over the forest, the nations of AGATE lowered their weapons.

Germany crept to the edge of a rocky crevice and looked out at the area near the bottom of the mountain, where a small town could just be spotted in the distance. The town was isolated, but not nearly as much as the other American towns they had been sent to thus far. And yet there it sat, oblivious to how close it had been to being attacked by Grimm.

"That was too close." China murmured, echoing Germany's internal sentiments. "They've gotten more aggressive."

"Well a human town is right there." Denmark said, pointing at the structures in the distance. "The emotions must whip them into a frenzy."

"Does our guest have anything to say on the matter?" Prussia asked as he leaned casually on his glaive.

Germany nodded. "He said the younger Grimm do tend to get… excited when they are close to civilization. The older ones have more control."

Although the topic of the other spies had yet to be breached, the nations had found a nice source of information for Grimm-related matters from the Atlas soldier. The man mistrusted him, but his morals were not so broken that he would let innocent civilians die when he could prevent it, even if Earth and its people may be considered his enemy.

"Good thing these ones were young, then." China said. He balanced a tonfa over his shoulder and glanced at Germany out of the corner of his eye. "One of these times we aren't going to make it in time. I am shocked no footage of Grimm has made it onto the internet yet, aru."

Germany grimaced at the thought. "It is to Salem's benefit that her creatures remain a secret from Earth's public."

"But for how long?" China murmured.

Germany did not have an answer. He planted the butt end of his ahlspiess into the dirt. "Enough dawdling. We're not done yet. There's an abandoned factory on this mountain. There could be Grimm inside."

"Think we'll find a Nuckelavee?" Denmark asked eagerly.

Norway yanked on his collar. "Please stop asking for trouble."

"Split into groups of four." Germany ordered. "Comms on at all times. If we lose contact, converge to that group."

Spain raised his hand. "Are you sure we should split up at all?"

"Unless you want to be here all day, yes." Germany said sternly. "There's only one entrance. Austria, Spain, Lithuania, Poland: you stand guard."

The four nodded in assent. The factory dwarfed the surrounding trees, as out of place in the middle of the forest as a fox in a chicken coop. It towered over the surrounding woods in a grim mockery of a fairytale castle, comprised of metal and concrete and with little care for aesthetics. Poland cast a distasteful glance at the huge black columns and broken windows, nose wrinkled.

"I can already smell it." he moaned, waving a hand in front of his nose. "What was made in here?"

"Beer." Prussia said.

Poland's disgust multiplied tenfold and he pinched his nose. "It smells  _awful_."

"You don't have to go inside." Germany reminded him.

Poland sighed in relief and squawked, clapping a hand over his nose. "Ew ew ew."

"Split off." Germany commanded.

The rest of the nations formed into their groups. It showed how far they had come that there was minimal squabbling as to who went with who. To Germany's surprise, Finland ran over to him and stood contently at his side with his sniper rifle in his grasp.

When Germany shot him a confused look, Finland smiled. "We always go in the same groups so I thought we could mix it up this time."

Germany was about to reply when he saw Denmark bouncing in place. He frowned. "Denmark, you're with Finland, Hungary, and I."

"What did I do?" Denmark yelped.

"What  _didn't_  you do?" Norway said, deadpan.

Denmark huffed and walked over to Germany's group. Germany decided not to comment and give Denmark and excuse to explain his lack of enthusiasm.

"Move out. We'll reconvene in an hour."

The entered the factory, and Germany's nose wrinkled. Poland was right. The place did smell. One would think a factory that crafted beer would smell good, but the worn-down factory that was long out of use smelled anything but pleasant. Germany let his gaze wander over the cobwebs hanging along the ceiling and grimaced, wondering why the factory had been abandoned.

The groups split up, with each taking a section. Germany's group elected to check on the upper floor, and upon seeing the mass of rotted kindling that was supposedly 'stairs', Germany had to wonder if the factory was closed for safety violations. He cautiously placed a foot on the first step and a board creaked under his weight.

"Be careful not to fall through the floor." he murmured.

Hungary looked at the ceiling, which had visible cracks. "I'm more worried about the ceiling falling on us, to be honest."

They made it up the stairs without incident and Germany grimaced. This floor was even grimier than the first one. A layer of dust and scum covered everything, from the windows to the floor to the machinery. Seeing the engines in such disrepair made Germany's cold mechanic's heart ache but he ignored the feeling, focusing on the mission.

A floor board creaked.

Germany raised his weapon and fired, shooting the Beowolf in midair. Its body hit the floor with a thud, sending a puff of dust into the air, and faded away. Germany lowered his gun.

"And  _that_  is why we check." he said calmly.

Finland put a hand to his communicator. "Sweden? We found a lone Beowolf. There might be more."

" _Und'rstood."_  Sweden grunted briefly.

The sound of rustling featured came from within a tower to their left.

Germany peered into the space, looking up, and met dozens of red eyes.

He raised his gun. "How many?"

"I see forty-two." Hungary said.

"Count your kills." Germany said levelly.

The four nations fired into the swarm of tiny Nevermore in the roof. The bird-like Grimm screeched, flying about frantically, but there was nowhere to escape from the closed-off tower above. The tiny bodies fell like rain, dissipating once they hit the ground. Those tiny Nevermore would become huge behemoths if left unchecked, so although the dark tower seemed empty, Germany scanned it again just to be sure.

"I'll climb up." Hungary offered.

She put her flashlight between her teeth and grabbed the thin metal ladder, climbing into the tower. Realizing it was too late to stop her, Germany sighed and let her go. A floorboard creaked and he raised his weapon, faltering when he spotted a human shape near the window.

A tall man stood at the end of the hallway, his figure cast in shadow by the light coming through the window. He stepped forward and Germany noted he was dressed in the type of camouflage hunters wore, with sturdy boots and sun glasses over his eyes. Germany realized the man must have been hunting in the area and heard the gunshots, so he came to the factory to investigate. That was a rather reckless plan but the man was American. Americans had a habit of running towards danger instead of away.

"Hello, citizen." Denmark greeted. "There were rabid birds in the area but they have been exterminated."

Finland palmed his face.

The man stared at them, expression blank, and Germany realized there was no confusion or alarm in his face. In fact, there was nothing to indicate he was surprised they were there. Germany's senses  _screamed_  and he tackled Finland to the ground.

The air above them rippled and exploded. Germany's ears popped and the shockwave shoved Denmark to the ground, shattering the windows around them. He staggered to his feet, firing at the man—  _The Atlas spy_ , Germany realized with a jolt— but his bullets bounced off the man's chest harmlessly.

The gun in the soldier's hand twisted, shifting into a mace. The weapon struck Denmark and he crashed through the window, falling out of sight. Germany heard shouts from outside and realized he had landed in front of the guarding team. The hair on Germany's nape prickled and he threw himself aside, avoiding a blast that shattered the wall behind him, leaving a gaping hole. Germany rolled to his feet and fired at the soldier, who casually blocked the shots with his mace.

_He has some type of air-explosion Semblance. Wonderful._

Germany dodged another blast. The spy apparently saw him as the greatest threat for he shot another shockwave his way. Finland dove at him, nearly catching him in the throat with his bayonet, but the soldier batted him aside like a fly. Finland hit the floor with a pained "Ow!" but rose to his feet, firing at the man's back. The soldier hardly stumbled. In fact, he did not seem to notice the bullets at all. He certainly noticed when Hungary kicked him in the face.

The blow would have sent a normal man sprawling, but the soldier hardly moved. He grabbed Hungary's leg mid-kick and flung her into some machinery. She crashed through a console, leaving sparking metal in her wake, but yanked herself free, teeth bared. Germany lunged for the soldier's back and wrapped his arm around the man's throat. His skin prickled and he released the soldier, jumping back as the air around him warped. The blast sent Germany into the wall and he grimaced, pulling himself free of the mortar.

The soldier's mace swung for his head and he ducked, eyes widening briefly as the metal sank deep into the wall. He did not wait for his enemy to recover the weapon and punched him in the face. The soldier grunted, grip loosening on the weapon, and Hungary sprang on him, arm locked around his throat. The soldier staggered, dragging her with him as her feet swung in the air. A large hand latched onto her hair yanking it roughly, but she only grunted, refusing to release her hold. The air rippled.

Before Germany could shout a warning, Finland lunged for the man and smashed the end of his sniper rifle into his face. The man balked and Germany recalled the head was a weak point in Aura's defenses. He pushed himself off the wall and slammed into the man's side, bowling him and Hungary over. Mentally apologizing to the nation, Germany grabbed the soldier's head and smashed it into the floor. His skull cracked the floorboards and he howled in pain.

"Subhuman  _scum—!_ " he screamed.

Hungary's fist met his nose, followed by her booted foot. His sunglasses shattered, revealing alien yellow-and-pink flecked eyes that no person of Earth would possess. Finland used his gun as a club and brought it down, while Germany kicked the man in the back of the head. It was a brutal and— as Prussia would put it— "unawesome" way of keeping him down but Germany could not feel guilty for the dirty fight. Overpowering and pummeling a man into submission was not his style, but for an Atlas spy he would make an exception.

Hungary's boot connected with the soldier's nose again, and  _finally_  something crunched. Orange light flared briefly and the man swore, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. Without hesitation, Hungary yanked her gun up, settling it against the soldier's temple. The man made to rise but was not quick enough.

Hungary put a bullet through his head.

Germany panted heavily, keeping his weapon aimed at the soldier. The man remained slumped where he fell, his blood joining the layers of grime on the floor. Hungary cautiously knelt— ignoring Germany's command to back away— and felt the man's pockets. She brightened and pulled out a phone out of his coat.

"Looks like we have another lead." she said with a grin.

Germany took the phone and turned it over in his hands, recognizing the make and model as one from Earth. He could not tell if there were any alterations done to it, and was wary of it blowing up in his face. Before he could decide what to do, Hungary snatched the phone back.

"Let's see." she said, clicking the button.

Germany jerked towards her. "Wait—"

The phone chimed and the screen lit up.

Hungary's smile froze on her face. Then it vanished entirely. Without a word, she showed them the lockscreen of the phone. The background was nothing unusual, simply a simple picture of a snowy landscape. It was the partial message displayed on the screen that was out of place. The notification was meant to only show that the message existed, giving a brief snippet of the text, and as such Germany could not see the whole thing. What he saw was enough because the message was coordinates.

Their  _current_  coordinates.

The message was sent at 9:24 a.m. Exactly  _one minute_  after AGATE received the alert that there were Grimm in this area. The only people who knew about that mission was the Taskforce and the American agents who told them the Grimm's location. Germany wished he was jumping to conclusions, but there was only one logical conclusion to make.

_One of the agents is an Atlas spy._

The nations stared at the Atlas soldier's dead body, then looked at each other.

"Well, shit." Hungary muttered.

XXXXXXX

No one slept well the night after Salem's attack. Some  _slept_ , of course, but their lethargic movements and baggy eyes showed it had not been restful. Even Japan was notably disturbed, gaze darting around with a distinctly paranoid air as they walked. They all had been shaken by the near-miss, though the worst off had to be America.

Any progress he made had crumbled back into dust and because there was no privacy and they could not give him space to process things, he retreated the only way he could: inward. Not a single word passed his lips, not even a "Good morning." or "Thank you." when Ruby handed him a bit of jerky.

Canada never thought his brother would have selective mutism, and yet he could not ignore the hollow silence that had taken his talkative twin. The others tried to cover America's uncomfortable silence with their own chatter but it was like trying to stop a river with a tiny sponge. The lack of a loud, boisterous laugh was too blatant to ignore.

So as they walked through endless woods, Canada did not know how to proceed. When he thought about comforting— or confronting— America to try to coax him out of his armored shell, the memory of his twin's hurt face, one hand pressed to his reddened cheek, would float into his conscious thoughts. Logically Canada knew he had not been in his right mind when he had struck his twin, but Salem could not create something from nothing— Well, maybe she  _could_. Regardless, guilt gnawed at Canada's gut like a parasite.

The hit had almost shocked him out of the burning anger— anger that consumed him more and more over the course of a few weeks— but it was not until Ren used his Semblance that Canada's mind cleared enough for him to comprehend that something was wrong. And what he had done.

America had forgiven him, but Canada could beat him bloody and his twin would forgive him. He could walk up with a hand raised threateningly and America would only brace himself. He could take out all his anger and resentment on his twin and America would let him without complaint. Hell, he could probably break America's leg and his twin would apologize to  _him_.

_And that's the problem, isn't it?_

Canada acknowledged his bitterness with a sigh. They had decided to have Ren use his Semblance on them all every few hours, just to make sure they were not being influenced again, and thus Canada knew that bitterness was all him.

Once he might have screamed at America that he was self-centered. Now he'd scream that America was not self-centered  _enough_. In fact, America's life and well-being was the last priority on Canada's stupid, selfless, damaged twin's list. Which may be another reason for America's silence.

His brother was  _not_  happy about Team RWBY and JNPR's new mission. Not at all. A part of it may be the before-mentioned lack of privacy, but Canada suspected it was mostly the whole guarding thing. Specifically the part that involved jumping between America and danger. America was a self-sacrificing idiot but if someone he loved thought about sacrificing themselves, he would drag them away kicking and screaming.

The fact that America himself was the possible reason for potential self-sacrifices only made it worse.

The fact that— objectively— his life  _was_  worth more than theirs made it unbearable.

If any of them died for America, Canada knew his brother would never forgive himself.

_I should ask Penny how she got America to accept her as his bodyguard,_  Canada thought. He grimaced.  _Then again, he probably did not have a choice..._

Canada cast a worried glance his twin's way but America did not acknowledge him. Nor did he acknowledge Jaune and Yang, who walked 'casually' at his sides. America was not fooled if his hunched shoulders were of any indication. Canada felt sorry for his twin but they had to stick to their guns— no pun intended— and do whatever it took to keep him safe. And not just from Salem and her minions.

Canada's eyes flicked to Oscar and narrowed.

Sterlyn halted abruptly. "Penny moved."

America's head snapped up but he still did not speak. He hurried to Sterlyn's side as the pilot set Penny down and crouched beside her. The others gathered around him— with Yang and Pyrrha at his back— and they waited with bated breath. Without warning, green eyes flicked open and life returned to them. Penny's gaze landed on America and she sat up.

"Who must I kill for causing you distress?"

America's smile was painfully thin and weak. He opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly, shaking his head without saying a word. Canada was beginning to wonder if his throat still hurt from having the Grimm essence shoved down— from what Salem did. He shuddered at the thought.

"Are you feeling better?" Ruby asked when America failed to speak.

"It took longer than estimated to expel the water from my systems." Penny said. Green eyes locked onto Canada. "What transpired while I was in hibernation?"

Canada frowned, noticing the non-answer. "A lot of things." he said. He hesitated and reluctantly went into detail. "Salem used her powers to magnify everyone's negative emotions except America's. We became..." He remembered flesh striking flesh and winced. "...aggressive."

Penny's eyes flashed. "Data on Alfred's habits indicate that such a discrepancy in behavior would cause him to retreat."

America grimaced but did not deny it.

Penny's eyes narrowed. "What happened." It was not a question, but a  _demand_  for answers.

"Turns out Salem can possess her Grimm." Weiss said stiffly. "We fought her off."

Penny's expression went blank. Her unblinking gaze roamed over them with unnatural smoothness and Canada was viciously reminded that she was a robot.

"You have taken up guard positions around Alfred F. Jones." she noted.

"Yeah. We're guarding him. Officially." Yang explained.

"Noted." Penny said. An arctic winter was warmer than her eyes. She rose to her feet and brushed the dirt from her clothes. "I shall continue my mission to protect Alfred F. Jones as well."

America's face twisted. He lowered his head to hide it but Canada had already seen the miserable look in his eyes. He may as well be wearing a sign that screamed "I don't want this" but none of them had the heart— or the bravery— to try to talk to him about it and open up that possibly devastating can of worms.

"If you have any tips for us that would be appreciated." Weiss said graciously. "You're more experienced at this kind of thing than us."

Green eyes scrutinized her and Penny inclined her head. "Noted."

America shivered visibly. He rose to his feet and silently shoved his way past Yang and Pyrrha, continuing down the road. His guards hurried after him, falling into formation, and his jaw clenched visibly as a tendon quivered in his throat.

Rather than catch up, Penny walked beside Canada. "Alfred is distressed." she said softly.

"Yes." Canada murmured.

"Why?" Penny questioned.

"He doesn't want anyone dying for him." Canada explained quietly.

Green eyes flicked over their group— briefly following Blake as she took a new position directly behind America— before locking with Canada's violet. "It is unlikely every member of this team will come out of this conflict alive."

Canada winced. "America knows that. But that's not the issue. He doesn't want them jumping between him and Salem." His shoulders slumped. "He doesn't want them jumping between him and  _any_  danger."

Penny's brow crinkled. "I do not compute. Alfred F. Jones's safety is the priority of this mission."

"That doesn't mean he's okay with anyone dying for him." Canada said.

"I still do not compute." Penny admitted. "However, that emotional response is irrelevant. We will protect Alfred F. Jones whether or not he is 'okay' with it. He does not have a choice in this matter."

Canada struggled not to flinch at her wording. He glanced at America again, noticing the dull look in his eyes and the way his feet dragged with every step. Something took hold of his heart and twisted it, leaving him feeling breathless and pained.

"You're right." he said faintly. "I suppose he doesn't."

XXXXXXX

It was a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly. The temperature was perfect. Old friends laughed. Town gossips chatted. The children played. The birds sang a pretty song.

Qrow eyed one such bird distastefully and considered massacring his feathery brethren.

The damn things had been chirping nonstop since four o'clock that morning, so excuse him for being a little tired of it. The small sparrow landed on his windowsill like some rejected fairy tale mascot and began tweeting gratingly. Its chirps grew higher and higher, and it stared directly at him like it knew exactly what it was doing. Qrow's hands inched towards his scythe. A pale hand stopped his.

"Mister Qrow, please do not murder the wildlife." Whitley requested. He released Qrow's hands and folded his on his lap. "The nurses just returned your weapon to you. Surely you do not want it taken from you again?"

Qrow scowled at him. "They can damn well  _try_  to take it from me." he snarled.

Whitley inclined his head in a way that was infuriatingly similar to his oldest sister. "I think they may succeed. The medical staff can be quite determined when their patients are acting foolishly."

...Was the kid insulting him? Qrow grunted, glowering at the sparrow. It blinked at him with its beady eyes and chirped innocently before twittering a happy tune.

Qrow's eye twitched. "Why are you here so early, kid? You don't usually show up until nighttime."

Whitley did not appear to catch onto his grouchy tone. Or he was used to it by now. He clapped his hands together, holding them lightly. "I thought you could come visit Sun with me. I have read that comatose patients can sometimes hear conversations so perhaps your voice may reach him."

"Are you saying I'm loud?" Qrow asked slowly.

Whitley had the perfect diplomatic expression on his face. "I never said such a thing. Right, Klein?"

"Indeed. Mister Whitley voiced no such accusations." Klein said solemnly. His twinkling eyes gave him away.

Qrow slouched in his hospital bed and glowered at the wall. "Well, you can go visit Sun without me. I'm fine here."

Whitley frowned at him. "As the one responsible for you, I cannot do that in good conscience. You've been in here for weeks. You need to get out of this room. You've become very moody."

"You aren't responsible for me. And I'm  _not_  moody." Qrow snapped moodily.

Whitley arched an eyebrow.

Qrow scowled.  _I'm arguing with a child_ , he thought, disgusted. "Fine. Let's go visit."

Whitley smiled like the sun— Gods, that smile reminded him of Ruby— and brought his wheelchair over. Qrow glowered at it, secretly hoping it would burst into flames. He despised the contraption, not only because of what it represented, but because the damn thing was annoying to maneuver. Qrow could not push himself around effectively yet and he had to rely on others to help him, something that made his pride twinge in agony every time it came up.

Klein helped him into the wheelchair and he balanced Harbinger over his knees. Whitley pushed him through the halls at a careful pace and Qrow rolled his eyes.

"You can move faster, kid."

Whitley paused and leaned forward. "Are you sure?"

Qrow's patience thinned. "Yes—"

Whitley took off running. Qrow yelped and gripped the arms of his wheelchair as they skidded around the corner. Whitley's laugh pulled him out of his panic and he smiled briefly.

"Don't hit anyone, kid. I don't feel like burying a body."

"The halls are empty this time of day." Whitley claimed but he slowed down to a steady walk.

Klein caught up to them and adjusted his sleeve. The butler did not admonish Whitley for running in the halls and merely opened the door to Sun's room. He was an alright guy. Not too strict, not too reckless. He was a good influence on Whitley and apparently was fine with a little bit of rule-breaking. Qrow could appreciate that.

Whitley pushed Qrow inside Sun's room and stopped him by the Faunus's bed. Qrow glanced at the stack of books piled on the bedside table, tipping his head to read the names on the spines.

"I have been reading to him." Whitley informed Qrow seriously. "I researched the topic of comas using well-proven studies and scholarly articles that claimed reading to the patient can help."

Qrow eyed the tall pile of business and law books. "I'm sure he's enjoying them, kiddo."

Whitley smiled. "I thought so as well. I tried reading a couple of fantasy books but they were quite boring."

Qrow's lips twitched. He covered his smile with a cough. "So is that all you do here?"

"Usually." Whitley admitted. "Though sometimes Klein and I play games to let Sun know we are here."

Qrow nodded absently. He was a bitter and jaded man, but he was not heartless enough to tell the kid all his reading and talking and game-playing was for nothing. Vacuo would not awaken until his Aura was returned to them, and even then it was not a sure thing. But Qrow would not tell that to Whitley, whose heart was a lot bigger than so many believed. And who knew? Maybe Sun could hear them and would know he was not alone. Qrow picked up a board game and inspected it, noting the stupid birds were singing outside this window too.

He did his best to ignore them. "Games, huh? That's something to do other than wait for my next checkup, I guess. I suppose it can't hurt to stay for a little while."

Whitley beamed at him.

Klein smiled softly.

Sun slept obliviously on.

The birds stopped singing.

XXXXXXX

They stopped walking long before the sun set. Not because they were tired, but at Ozpin's request. Ruby knew why the former Headmaster had asked to stop early but her brain refused to accept it. Her body knew exactly what was coming and her stomach tried to crawl out of her throat, leaving her feeling nauseous. So as they set up camp with their limited supplies, Ruby made a beeline for the closest person.

"Alfred. Need help with that?" she asked.

Alfred looked up from the rocks he was placing into a ring and shrugged. Ruby took that as a yes from him and began walking around the area, searching for more rocks for the soon-to-be fire pit. Alfred slowly placed every rock in a circle, moving as if each one weighed a ton. He turned to accept a particularly large one from Ruby and stopped, staring past her. Ruby glanced back and saw Blake, who stood awkwardly to the side with a hand on her weapon. A visible tremor passed through Alfred and he took the rock from Ruby without looking at her.

"That one looks like a cat." Ruby blurted.

Alfred blinked at her. His eyes were  _dull_  again, like they had been back in Frontier. Oh dear.

Ruby crouched next to him and pointed. "That's the tail, those are the legs, and there's the head. See? It's a cat."

Alfred blinked at the rock and inspected it from a different angle. Eventually he sighed and shook his head, adding it back to the ring.

Ivan snorted as he passed by. "Stop moping and get over yourself, Alfred."

Alfred winced. He did not speak a word.

Anger boiled in Ruby's veins— and eye— but she forced it down. She glared past Ivan— not  _at_  him, but  _past_  him, just in case. "That wasn't nice, Ivan. Apologize."

Ivan's eyebrows rose. Ruby's glare jerked to him and her anger smoldered. She knew Ivan could be insensitive sometimes but he did not have to be  _mean_. He did not know what was going on in Alfred's head. Ivan did not know how much he was struggling. He did not know how  _scared_  Alfred was that someone might get hurt because of him, scared that one wrong decision or outburst would cause her to—

Alfred was holding her hand. Ruby did not remember seeing him move. His dull blue and green eyes were steady as they held her silver and Ruby felt herself relaxing. She was  _so_  ready to kick Yang in the shin if she made a single joke. Instead her sister silently added a few rocks to the circle and retreated.

Alfred did not glance her way, instead holding Ruby's gaze. It was almost funny. His eyes were still dull, but they seemed calm. Ruby suspected that was only because he realized she  _needed_  him to be. Yet underneath that serenity, sadness still lingered like a shadowy cloak.

Ruby hesitated. "Do you want a hug?"

Alfred stared at her but nodded. Ruby hugged him as tightly as she could, because he may be thin and tired but he was  _not_  breakable. He hugged her back much more carefully, like his touch was poison and he was terrified of staying too close. Some of Ruby's nausea receded and she admitted she needed the hug as much as he did.

Yang made no teasing comments. No one did. Instead they politely walked around them to continue setting up their makeshift camp. Ruby knew she was not the only one to notice Alfred's shift in attitude, and had to wonder what signals  _she_  was giving to the others. Not that she was giving any signals. She wasn't because there were no signals to give. She was fine. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

Oscar's eyes flashed and Ozpin looked her way.

"I'll go get firewood!" Ruby blurted. She released Alfred and hurried towards the treeline.

"Ms. Rose." Ozpin's voice froze her in place. Golden eyes studied her carefully, and softened into a kinder look. "We do not need to do this if you do not want to."

Ruby's mouth was dry. She forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. "It doesn't matter what I want. I need to do this. I have to learn whatever I can about Silver Eyes just in case."

"You  _don't_  have to. You have a choice. What you want matters."

Ruby would be cheering that Alfred had broken his silence if not for the uncomfortable words he decided to say. She shifted from foot to foot and hid her trembling hands by clasping her sleeves.

"Not really. It'd be selfish of me not to try. I have to do this."

All expression vanished from Alfred's face and he silently walked to the woods. Penny, Yang, Ren, Blake, and Pyrrha followed him. Nora halted beside Ruby and watched them go, releasing a puff of air that made a lock of her hair flutter.

"I think Alfred needs more than a hug." she muttered.

"Yeah." Ruby sighed.

Nora hefted her hammer onto her shoulder. "I get it though. I'd be super upset if you guys said you'd die for me."

Ruby winced.

"I hope we don't attract Grimm, especially with Salem body-snatching them." Nora continued. She frowned and leaned over, speaking softly. "You don't think Salem will do anything to Alfred because we beat her, do you?"

Ozpin overheard. "That is doubtful." he said, making Nora jump. "Once Salem would react violently to every inconvenience, but believe it or not she has…  _mellowed out_  over the centuries."

That was not as reassuring as he probably meant it to be.

Ruby cleared her throat. It was very dry for some reason. "S-So. Silver Eyes?"

Ozpin inclined his head. "I fear there is not much I can teach you. As I said, many aspects of Silver Eyes are still a mystery to me, but I do know they activate due to outbursts of emotion. In the best case scenario, these lessons will consist of lectures and meditation, and little else."

Despite her unease, Ruby's nose wrinkled unhappily.

Ozpin eyed her sternly. "As boring as you may find it, you need to learn to keep yourself  _calm_. Silver Eyes are not something you can simply learn to control. All I can do is teach you how they activate… but more importantly, I will try to help you find ways to  _not_  activate them. This power is not one to rely on, Ms. Rose. Not even in the worst of circumstances. It is a  _curse_  that will destroy all in its path.  _It will not save anyon_ e."

Ruby winced, chastised, and gripped the talisman Arthur had given her. "I understand."

Golden eyes softened slightly. "I believe you do." His gaze flicked left. "Mister Vargas."

Feliciano and Lovino looked his way.

Ozpin's lips twitched. " _Both_  Mister Vargas, please."

Lovino grabbed Feliciano's arm before he could approach the former Headmaster. He shifted position so he stood in front of his brother as Alfred and the others returned with wood. The blond-haired teen halted at the edge of the clearing, mismatched gaze darting between them worriedly. Penny stepped sideways so she was closer to her protectorate.

"What do you want with us?" Lovino asked sharply.

Ozpin was not dissuaded by his tone. "Your Semblances may be of assistance if anything… happens." Ruby's heart pounded, trying to escape her chest. "Feliciano, your intangibility allows you to be unharmed by Silver Eyes. Lovino, your ability to put anyone to sleep could also be essential in this matter."

_It could be essential in keeping me from killing everyone, you mean,_  Ruby thought.

A hand settled on her shoulder and Yang stopped beside her. Her metal arm creaked and her eyes flashed to red.

"It's fine, Yang." Ruby said quickly. "I know Silver Eyes are dangerous. I—" She cut herself off before she could say  _"I'm glad someone can stop me."_

Her words— and the words left unsaid— only made her sister more visibly enraged. Ruby glanced at Ren but although he had his hand on the ground in preparation, he did not appear pained like he had when Salem had been affecting them. These emotions were all their own.

"You can help me sleep!" Alfred gasped suddenly.

Arthur's head snapped up from where he was trying to light a fire. "What?"

"Nothing." Alfred said, scratching his cheek nervously. He grimaced and touched his throat.

Alfred said nothing more but he broke the tense standoff, albeit unintentionally. Yang looked torn between laughing and staring at Alfred like he was crazy, and the stiffness in Ozpin's posture eased.

"We could use your assistance." he told the Vargas brothers.

"I'd love to help." Feliciano said, but he wrung his hands nervously and did not quite look at Ruby.

Lovino grimaced and grunted in apparent assent, crossing his arms.

Ozpin smiled. "Excellent. Ms. Rose—" Ruby flinched. "—we should go some distance away before we start."

Ruby gripped the talisman again and swallowed. She could do this. She  _had_  to do this. "O-Okay."

Yang blocked her before she could take more than a step.

Her face twisted like she were in pain. "Ruby—"

_Thud._

The firewood slipped from Alfred's fingers, hitting the dirt with an echoing  _crash_. The rounder sticks and wood rolled across the ground, nearly hitting Blake's foot before they tumbled to a quivering halt. Alfred did not appear to notice he'd dropped them, staring straight ahead with a frozen expression. For a heart-stopping moment Ruby thought Salem was back, but a look behind her revealed nothing was there. Matthew frowned at the empty woods as well and approached his twin, putting a hand on his arm.

"Al, what's wr—?"

Alfred fell to his knees with a howl of pain. His body contorted as he curled up on the ground and he screamed again, raw and agonized like he was being tortured. His eyes went round and his jaw clamped shut, stifling his howls, but his fingers clawed at the dirt as his body writhed. Matthew grabbed his hand, holding it tightly, and Arthur pressed a hand to his brother's chest, muttering rapidly. He immediately lifted it, skin flickering with violet light.

"I can't do anything." he said tightly.

"What's happening?" Weiss demanded.

"An attack." France said wearily, expression drained. "A bad one."

A pit opened in Ruby's stomach and she plugged her ears, unable to listen to Alfred's screams. She could hear his wails through her hands and gritted her teeth, struggling to force away the pressure building in her eye by focusing on her breathing. After an agonizing few minutes that felt like hours, Alfred's muffled cries became soft whimpers.

Red trickled down his face.

Ruby clapped a hand to her mouth to hold back a gag as a streak of crimson dripped from his left eye like tears. The eye remained intact but blood seeped from it, sliding down into his hair and staining the golden locks red. Penny lurched to her feet and paced back and forth, fingers twitching madly as her backpack whirred. Arthur pulled Alfred into his lap and held him, hushing him softly as he moaned.

"You're alright. You're alright, Alfred. We're here with you. We're here."

Ruby pretended not to hear his voice crack. The rest of them stood around uselessly until Alfred's body stopped lurching, his whimpers fading to silence as his eye leaked bloody tears. His eyes slipped shut but before Ruby could hope he'd fallen unconscious, they snapped open. His body trembled from effort and his lips parted, flecked with red.

"Frontier." Alfred croaked, voice hoarse. "Frontier is gone."

Ruby's breath caught in her throat. The comprehension was there but no connection could be made. She stood in blissful ignorance, even as Yang gasped hysterically and Blake's skin went white.

"What are you saying?" Weiss whispered. Her stoic mask cracked and she grabbed Alfred's shirt. "What do you mean Frontier is  _GONE?_ "

Alfred hardly seemed bothered by her shaking, as if he barely registered her presence at all. Penny took much more issue with her manhandling and advanced, weapons glowing green. Winter yanked her sister off of Alfred and held her as she screamed at him.

"It's  _not gone._ " Weiss snarled as she fought her sister's hold. "Frontier  _isn't_   _gone! It can't be! Whitley and Klein are there!_ "

"Sun." Blake whispered, ears flat against her head.

_And Uncle Qrow—_ Ruby clapped a hand over her eye as it pulsed, ready to ignite.  _Don't think don't think don't think DON'T THINK—_

"The Grimm." Alfred mumbled deliriously. "There were… so many Grimm..."

Weiss fell to her knees in the dirt, eyes blank. Alfred did not notice. He blinked, brow furrowing in a puzzled manner, and slowly turned his head towards Matthew. He blinked again, getting congealing blood in his eyelashes, and squinted at his brother.

"Oh." He murmured and the tinge of panic in his voice chilled Ruby to the core. He smiled, but it trembled, like it was a breath away from crumbling under the weight of his tears.

"Mattie?" Alfred said tremulously, voice small and tired and  _scared_. "I can't see out of my left eye."


	22. Scars Upon Scars

" _I'm sorry."_

America did not acknowledge Vale as he stared at his hands. Nor did he acknowledge Canada as he murmured to him, or England as he screamed at someone, or anyone as they tried to shout over each other. He kept his hands in place and turned his head to the right.

They vanished from sight, lost in the black void that claimed his left eye. He shut both eyes, blocking out all sight. America carefully reached up and touched his cheek, sliding his hand up until they bumped the rim of his glasses. He gently nudged the glass away and pressed his fingers over his left eye, holding them there. He took a breath, lowered his hand, and opened his eye.

Vision came readily to his right eye.

His left only saw black.

" _I'm so sorry."_  Vale sobbed.

_It's not your fault_ , America told her, and even his thoughts were flat and emotionless.  _It was Salem's._

He remembered flashes of rampaging Grimm, human screams, and burning buildings. They were all a blur, with nothing specific coming to mind, and he could not even say whether Salem was there to watch the carnage or not. He knew this attack was intentional. She destroyed Frontier, one of Vale's most traversed towns and the closest to Solitas. It was where many people and traders passed through, but most importantly, information. One could almost say Frontier was one of Vale's 'eyes' that allowed the Kingdom to see the state of its northern neighbor.

In other words, it was a perfect town to cause non-fatal damage while giving a message.

America covered his blind green eye again and lowered his head into both hands. He should have known Salem would pull something like this. He kind of expected her to, but not so quickly. And certainly not because he slighted her. A watery laugh bubbled out of him, causing Canada to shoot him a worried look. America shook his head and did not attempt to explain himself. Even if he tried, he was not sure he could.

He glanced at England— who was yelling at Ozpin— and idly wondered how long it would take his older brother to realize he was screaming in Gaelic. It was almost funny to see England falling back on that language to express his rage, but America could not find any humor in the situation. In fact he could not feel much at all.

"Can you tell?" he whispered to no one.

Canada avoided his gaze. "A little. Your left eye is… unfocused."

"Okay." America mumbled, too emotionally drained to come up with a better response.

He tuned out England's shouts and scanned the others, forced to turn his head to see them all. They had separated into small groups, but the one that caught his eye was Team RWBY and Winter. Yang was holding Ruby in her arms and whispering softly to her, while Winter sat stiffly at Weiss's side and gripped her hand. Blake sat like a lonely island between the sets of sisters, ears flat against her head.

America could not feel for himself, but apparently his compassion for others still functioned. He lost half his sight but they might have lost so much more. America shoved his pain away and rose to his feet, nearly colliding with Penny. She had been standing at his left side, in his blind spot.

_I'm half-blind. I'm_ _**half-blind** _ _._

America shoved his panic down. "Sorry." he mumbled.

"It is fine. Do you require assistance?"

America shook his head. "I have this."

He strode confidently across the clearing and nearly crashed into Japan. Mumbling an apology, he weaved around his friend, trying to remember the instincts he'd gained from wearing an eyepatch on Earth. He felt dizzy and off-balance, but he made it to RWBY without tripping and making a fool of himself. They looked at him— tears in Blake, Ruby, and Yang's eyes—and he sat heavily, afraid of collapsing in front of them.

"I'll make your Scroll work."

Yang's eyes darted to his left side, confusion clouding her features, but her skin went white as she realized what he meant.

Ruby stood abruptly. "I need to get something."

She ran to the other side of the campsite and began rummaging through her bag. At first America thought she was looking for her Scroll despite him having his own on hand, but Yang had already taken her own Scroll out, negating the necessity of Ruby's or his. An inkling of a feeling nagged at him and he turned his head away from Ruby so he did not have to watch her dig through her bag, delaying the inevitable.

Ruby returned with visible reluctance and shoved an eyepatch into his hands. "I have a spare."

America looked at the plain black eyepatch and silently put it on, covering his useless green eye. He saw no difference than before; not even a hint of increased darkness. He forced a smile for Ruby anyway.

"Thank you."

She sat down heavily and dragged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Yang silently held out her Scroll to America and he held it in his hand, finger hovering over Qrow's number. He pressed the button.

It rang.

_Please answer._

And rang.

_Answer._

And rang.

_Come on,_ _**answer** _ _._

The Scroll beeped.

Ruby gasped and perked up, pale face breaking out into a smile. "Uncle—"

" _You've reached the voicemail of Qrow Branwen."_  their uncle's recorded voice said. _"Please leave a message unless you're Jimmy. If you are Jimmy, then you can kindly fu—"_

Yang jabbed the button to hang up and shoved the Scroll into her pocket. "It doesn't mean anything." she said hollowly. "He might have lost his Scroll."

"Try Whitley." Weiss said, pressing her Scroll into America's hands.

He silently dialed.

They waited for the Scroll to ring.

Instead an off-putting dual tone sounded.

" _We're sorry. The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected."_  a recorded female voice said.  _"Please hang up and try again or press one for more options—"_

Weiss jabbed the button to hang up. "Turn on his Scroll." she demanded. "You can turn it on."

America bit his lip. "Weiss—"

"Turn. It.  _On_."

America held her Scroll gingerly and shut his eyes, focusing on Whitley's number. Amidst the flickers of data that flashed through his limited vision— even his Semblance's view was half-dark— he could not make the connection. America tried not to think about it, but he knew why. He could not make a connection with something that did not exist.

The Scroll in his hand gave a dual off-putting tone.  _"We're sorry. The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again or press one for more options—"_

Weiss ripped the Scroll from America's hands and chucked it into the woods with a scream. It flew into a tree, ricocheting off the bark, and landed somewhere in the foliage. America took in the deep gouge in the tree trunk and lowered his head. Weiss was on his left so he could not see her cry, but he could still hear her stifled gasps.

"They're not dead." she whispered. "They're not dead. They just lost their Scrolls. That's all. They're  _not_  dead."

"Uncle Qrow probably dropped his somewhere." Ruby blurted. "A-And Whitley's was smashed. It doesn't mean anything." She looked to America, desperation painted in her watery silver eye. "The city's not  _gone_."

_America saw destroyed buildings._

"They had airships to escape in."

_He saw an airship go up in flames._

"A-And there were plenty of Atlas soldiers there. They'd protect everyone!"

_Bodies littered the ground, some in civilian clothes and others in the grey uniforms of Atlas's once-proud elite—_

America forced a smile. "You might be right. There's a chance."

Ruby nodded and rubbed at her watery, reddened eye. Winter shot America a disapproving look but he ignored her. There was a chance that Qrow, Whitley, and Klein were okay. It was not impossible. The people of Frontier had an escape route in the airships, so at least  _some_  of them had to be okay. It was the town itself that was destroyed.

America absently touched his eyepatch. The foggy void of numbness beckoned. He got up and began walking around, trying to get used to being half-blind again.

" _I'm sorry."_  Vale whispered.

Italy timidly walked into the bushes and retrieved Weiss's Scroll. He nervously held it out to her and she took it back with no comment. No one could call them from a long distance with the CCT still down, but they could call each other and America could still try to reach Qrow and Whitley. He touched his Scroll and silently took their numbers from Weiss and Yang's own Scrolls. He did not want to have to ask for theirs every day to try to contact their families. He knew how they would react— with rapidly decreasing hope— but he had to keep trying as long as there  _was_  hope. Though he would have to plead with his other guards to keep it a secret so they would not tell the sisters what he was doing.

America's gorge rose and he rubbed his throat, breathing slowly through his nose. He glanced at Canada, but his brother was busy trying to calm England down and did not see. That was good. Canada knew America better than his twin liked to guess, but he did not know everything. If America allowed himself to be introspective, he'd guess Canada thought his silence was because he was upset about Salem's near-miss the guarding thing. He was upset about those things, but they were not the only reasons for his silence.

His throat still hurt from Salem's attempt to implant Grimm essence inside him. Even after England's reassurances that he was in the clear, America felt  _dirty_. He could still feel the Grimm ooze on his tongue. He could still recall the pain as it forced its way into his mouth, suffocating him as it tried to squeeze its way in and leave a Grimm parasite behind.

America pressed a hand to his chest, above his heart, and curled up as his stomach cramped. He ignored its plea to expel everything he had eaten— just to be  _sure_ — and wrapped an arm around his stomach, focusing on breathing through his nose. Penny dropped down next to him and put a hand on his arm.

"Are you under attack?"

America shook his head. "Just stress."

He kept his voice low so hopefully no one would hear. 'No one' turned out to be Pyrrha, Japan, and Russia, for they all looked at him in concern. Well, the former two were concerned. Russia had a distinctly murderous glint in his eyes. Penny noticed the threat and rose. At least, she attempted to. Her arm twitched, clipping America's shoulder, and he grunted.

Penny's body locked in place. "My apologies."

"Are  _you_  okay?" He reached out but she shifted away from him, evading his touch.

"I am..." She paused, studying his face. "When Matthew Williams failed to tell you of his deterioration, you were distressed."

America's mind refused to make a link between her statement and their current conversation. He only nodded mutely.

Penny avoided his gaze. "Something is wrong with my systems. Some of them are not working at optimal capacity and my energy reserves are being drained by an unknown source. I cannot locate the source of the issue."

America's heart sank. He looked at Yang, who comforted Ruby. He looked at Winter, who securely held Weiss. He looked at Blake, who cried alone. He looked at Canada, who pleaded with England to calm down, whispering that it wasn't Ozpin's fault,  _it wasn't, please stop this_. He looked at Penny, whose fingers twitched, not out of some psychological reason but simple mechanical damage— or was it? He looked at JNPR and the other nations, who he belatedly realized were standing guard, ready for an attack.

His left eye was blind.

There was a point where someone could only take so much at once. When wave after wave of tragedy unfolded before them, emotions grew muffled as the mind took measures to keep itself safe until it could sort itself out. Perhaps that was why America could no longer care. It was like his emotions had turned off, leaving him feeling empty.

He numbly watched Ruby shove Yang away and hurry to the blanket that she shared with her sister. The sun had not yet set but the girl still curled up under the covers, ignoring Yang as she sat at her side. Ruby's form shook under the blanket, but she did not emerge, even when Yang put a hand on her head. America could not bear to watch anymore. He walked over to Romano— nearly crashing into Nora this time. Romano glared up at him, mouth set in dissatisfaction, but America spoke before he could.

"Can you put me to sleep?  _Please_."

Something in his tone got through to even the grumpy Italian, for he merely grumbled once before rising with a huff. America laid under a blanket and Romano put a hand on his head.

"I don't even know how this stupid power works." he muttered.

America had no suggestions for him. Before it could become awkward or Romano lost patience, America felt himself become drowsy. He closed his eyes— one working, one useless— and felt his body relax under Romano's warm hand. His breathing evened out, and England's shouts and Ruby's sniffles faded away. He did not hear Romano's startled exclamation or Feliciano's soft congratulations that it worked.

For the first time in weeks America slept, able to escape the horrors of the waking world.

XXXXXXX

The nations of the Anti-Grimm Alliance of Transoceanic Enforcers sat silently at the large table in America's home, all staring at the phone that sat innocently on the tabletop. Although their emotions varied— anger, unease, fear, even excitement— they were all united in their worry towards recent revelations. Only Tony seemed completely unaffected. In fact, if the alien had any thoughts at all, he did not show or share them. So they all stared at the phone trying to comprehend the message it contained.

It was the coordinates of their previous mission, followed by a single, cold phrase.

" _Eliminate all targets at this location."_

There were no more specifics.

No signature.

No hint as to who sent it.

But the short message was enough to throw their whole world off its axis.

Germany was the one to break the silence. "So we are certain then?"

"Do you doubt my skills?" Tony asked testily.

"No. I merely want to be sure that we are not overreacting."

"You're not." Tony said bluntly. "Hacking the phone was easy. Finding the source of the message was more difficult—the ping went all over Earth— but I've narrowed it down to Washington DC."

Denmark swore under his breath. "You've got to me kidding me."

"That doesn't mean anything." Romania said optimistically. "Maybe the spy just lives there."

"A spy posing as a civilian wouldn't have access to our missions." Hungary snarled.

"Do you realize what this means?" Lithuania whispered. "For an Atlas spy to know about AGATE, they'd have to be in a  _governmental_  position. For them to be in a governmental position that is so classified, they'd have to have been here for years, maybe  _decades_."

Prussia laughed. It was bitter and cold, much different than his normal cackle. "Of course they have spies in our governments. How else would they be able to identify, locate, and kidnap America and Canada?"

There was a beat of silence as the nations processed this.

Finland asked the question they were all thinking. "Should we tell the President?"

"We don't know who else can be trusted in his inner circle, and he will not meet with us without guards." China growled. He flipped his hair over his shoulder. "If America or Canada were here it would be a different story, but we are not as friendly with the President as they are."

"We have to try." Germany said. "This isn't simply about Grimm anymore. Atlas agents have infiltrated our government agencies with what is likely malicious intent. We need to tell America's boss… and our own."

The nations grimaced.

"I think we should delay on the latter course of action." China said. "We can tell America's boss, but we need to find the spy in America's agency before we tell our own. That spy is a great threat, as you saw on our last mission."

"Why would the spy send one of the others after us?" Poland asked. "It's not like they can kill us..." His confident expression faltered. "...Right?"

"It could be the first stage in some sort of gambit or trap." Korea murmured.

"But what's the end game?" Hungary pressed.

No one had the answer.

"Tony?" Germany looked to the only alien at the table. "I know you dislike inventing things for us, but do you have any technology that can help us locate these threats?"

Tony hummed in his high-pitched voice. "Not at the moment, but soon I will. I'm creating a Grimm-sensing device but a few modifications could also make it function as an Aura-sensing device. Once it's ready none of those fuckers will be able to hide from me."

"Hurry up and complete it already." Prussia growled.

Tony shot him an apathetic look.

" _Prussia_." Germany said sternly.

"Don't chide him." Tony grunted as he studied Prussia with his large, disinterested eyes. "You want me to find the bastards that helped hurt my friend?" The alien's crimson eyes grew cold. "Consider it done."

XXXXXXX

_Death surrounded him. The desert was covered with blood, the tan sand now painted a violent crimson. A tattered flag shifted weakly in the stifling wind. As he watched, it frayed and tore from the pole, fluttering uselessly to the blood-stained ground. It landed beside one of the thousands of bodies that lay lifeless and broken across the desert, baking in the relentless sun._

_Vacuo was in ruins, the last of its oases stripped away by the relentless storm that tore through it. The storm that_ _**he** _ _caused at the request of his King. He knew he was strong. He knew his Semblance was powerful. But enhanced by the 'Relic of Destruction' his King wielded, he became_ _**unstoppable** _ _._

_All those deaths, all this destruction, was by_ _**his** _ _hand._

I did this.

_He hunched over and wept into the dusty, blood-covered sand, not caring that the sand stung his eyes. He never wanted to join this war. He never wanted to be forced to step in. But when Mantle and Mistral threatened Vacuo, they had to protect their ally._

_They had successfully protected Vacuo._

_And in the process they— he—_ _**destroyed** _ _the once fertile land._

_And the enemy._

_So he wept into the bloody sand, exhausted and Auraless from the power he'd wielded. He decided then and there that he never wanted that power again. Even if his King ordered him to use it, he would refuse. No one should be able to destroy their enemy so utterly and completely, leaving the leaders of their enemies and allies alike all bowing fearfully before his King._

_Yes, this victory may have won them the war._

But at what cost?

_A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up tiredly, not caring if an enemy was there to strike him down. His King looked down at him, sorrow in his bright blue eyes._

" _My King." he mumbled, and hastily wiped his eyes._

" _My Kingdom." His King said in return. "I have news. The other leaders have surrendered to me. They are all willing to fall beneath my leadership, as one united nation."_

_Despite the heat of the sun and the blood-stained sand, he felt cold. He did not want to be the only nation. He did not enter this war to conquer the world and bring all of Remnant to its knees. If all of the Kingdoms of Remnant became Vale then Mantle, his brother would die. Mistral would die. Vacuo as well. He would be alone. Would he even survive, or would he vanish, replaced by the new unified Kingdom of Remnant?_

" _I refused."_

_He looked up, tears trapped in his eyes. "My King?" he asked timidly._

_His King smiled at him. "I don't want to lead the world. Ozpin almost made me reconsider, but I believe that humanity has learned its lesson. We will not make these mistakes again."_

_He remained quiet, shifting uneasily at the mention of his King's… guide. Ozpin had not been a presence in his King's head long, only a few months now, but although he knew_ _**of** _ _the mysterious reincarnating soul, he did not_ _**know** _ _him. Ozpin tended to stay out of the Kingdoms' affairs, until he was placed into the body of the King of Vale. Ozpin was not like the nations of Remnant, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit that scared him. Ozpin was an unknown whose motives appeared good, but something about him was…_ _**off,** _ _like not everything was there. Like his thoughts were slightly off-kilter and his sense of morals did not quite match what most of humanity considered to be appropriate._

_It was Ozpin who gave his King the idea to use his Kingdom as a weapon, using the Relic of Destruction to enhance his Semblance to catastrophic degrees._

_His King brushed a tear away from his eye, his hand warm against his clammy skin. "_ _Do not blame yourself, my Kingdom. You did only what I ordered." His King crouched in front of him and gripped his hands. "And it was worth it. The war is over."_

" _What happens next then?" he asked._

" _Ozpin has a few ideas." His King said. "Or perhaps… you could call it a new solution."_

_Looking at the bodies of countless men, he thought_ _**any** _ _solution, new or old, sounded better than this._

" _Will it bring peace?" he asked, voice cracking._

_His King hesitated. "I hope it does, Amber."_

_Again, he stared at the bodies, taking in the damage. He looked away, unable to bear it— unable to see what he had done. "What is this new solution?"_

_His King helped him to his feet, his warm blue eyes locking with Vale's brown. "_ _**You** _ _are the new solution, Vale. You will save this world."_

_For just a moment, those blue eyes flashed gold._

America's eyes slowly opened. He blinked groggily, breath hitching when his left side remained dark, but recalled what had happened. He slowly realized he was on the forest floor with something soft under his head. He recognized Canada's sweatshirt and sighed. He knew Mattie was resistant to the cold but this was ridiculous. America sat up with half-a-mind to throw the shirt at his twin, only to pause.

_Vale? Would you like to explain that dream?_

She said nothing.

America lifted a hand and cupped his left eye. He was too tired to try to think of questions.  _Okay. If you ever can, I'm ready to listen._

" _Okay."_ Vale whispered, and returned to silence.

America glanced around the dark campsite, noting the fire in the middle was almost out. Russia was the only one on guard duty, much to his dismay, so he made no effort to get up and start a conversation. Canada was dead to the world, England breathed softly, France was snoring, and Pyrrha and Jaune were curled up close to each other. Even Penny was still and silent—

Realization struck and America jerked to Penny's side. She lay on her back beside him, as if she had simply fallen asleep, and eyes were closed. Panicked, America went to rouse her, but stopped before he could touch her. Instead he grabbed his Scroll and scanned her systems. She was conserving power? America did not know she had to do that.

"Alfred."

America grimaced at Russia's greeting. He glanced Russia's way and grunted vaguely, unwilling to put up with him at the moment. Russia took the choice from him by walking over and sitting down next to Penny.

"I just sent Pyrrha and Jaune to bed and took over." his head tipped. "Aren't you going to offer to keep me company?"

"Leave me alone, Ivan." America hissed. "I'm not in the mood."

"I just want to understand you, Alfred." Russia claimed. "And since none of your guards are awake—"

His large hand clapped over America's mouth and he froze in place. Memories of the last battle in Vacuo joined his list of flashbacks and he locked his muscles, forcing himself not to spark. He didn't want to hurt Russia. He did not want to hurt any of his friends. He wouldn't. He was in control. He was  _in control—_

"Shhh." Russia soothed him as he dragged America out of the camp. "You don't want to wake the others, da? You already worry them so much."

America struggled briefly before giving up and letting Russia pull him deeper into the woods. In the meager light cast by the moon, Russia frowned in disapproval.

"Why must you always give up?"

"I'm not giving up." America snapped lowly. "I don't want to wake anyone."

"That is a pathetic lie." Russia leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. "You could shock me. You could burn me. You could blast me away. But you don't." Russia's grip tightened around America's arm and he swore the bone creaked. "You should."

" _You_ _ **should**_ _."_  Vale echoed, much more vehemently than Russia.

America jerked feebly in Russia's hold. He knew he could do all those things, but the thought of attacking even Russia that way made him feel physically ill. He could already picture blackened burns and smell burnt flesh. His stomach roiled.

"Stop pretending you're doing this to help me." he whispered, too tired to be angry.

Russia frowned at him. "But I am."

America snorted and avoided looking directly at him. It was a lot easier with only one good eye. "More like you get a kick out of beating me up to see if I break."

Russia chuckled. "If I wanted to break you I would not attack you this way. My way of shattering your mind would be much more personal."

America repressed a shiver. "So you decided beating me up is going to make me better."

"I thought it would push you to regain some self-respect." Russia's hand latched onto his arm. "Instead you  _let_  me do this."

He yanked America around so the blond-haired nation's back was to Russia's front, and his cold hand latched around the back of his neck. He shoved America forward, bending him over a tree stump. America froze in place, panic clawing at his throat.

"I've noticed you freeze most when I do this." Russia said calmly. "Why?"

America trembled remembering  _knives and touches and laughter and pain—_

"Let go of me." he breathed.

Russia's hand brushed his shoulder and his muscles locked, the memories almost overwhelming him.

"You also flinch when I do this." Russia commented. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing." America hissed, his eyes squeezed shut. He was not in Polendina's basement. Russia was not the soldier. It was fine. He was fine. It was—

Russia's fingers hooked around the hem of his shirt. He lifted it, exposing his back. America flinched as he felt the cold night air and recoiled as even colder fingers brushed the bandages across his shoulders. Russia held him still and grabbed the thin, old bandages. They tore easily with sharp  _rips_  and fell away. A light clicked on and America realized Russia was using his Scroll screen as a flashlight.

"Now, let's see what you're—"

Russia went silent. America knew what he had seen. The word, as clear and bloody as the days it was carved into his flesh.  _Sacrifice_. Humiliation became anger and electricity cracked. Russia gasped, grip weakening, and America jerked up, catching him in the chin with his head. America's fist met Russia's nose but the cartilage did not have the decency to break. America shoved Russia into a tree instead, unrepentant as he fell to the forest floor. America yanked his shirt back down, barely noticing how his scars stung as the fabric brushed roughly against it.

"Are you  _happy_?" America snapped.

Russia stared at him, expression blank. He stood up, figure outlined by the light of the moon. America tensed, backing up a step, but Russia grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him forward and—

... _Hugged_  him?

America stood stock still, thoughts caught in a glitchy loop as he failed to comprehend this turn of events. Russia's cold breath brushed his ear and he tensed. The larger nation did not appear to care.

"I understand now." Russia said softly. "I'm sorry."

He released America and walked away.

America watched him go and forced himself to follow. Even he was not so suicidal that he would sit alone far from camp in the middle of the dark woods. By the time he returned, Russia was back in his previous spot, staring at the fire. America dithered uncertainly in the treeline but could not find the energy to confront him. He carefully returned to his makeshift sleeping area and slipped under the blanket pulling it over his head.

_Vale, what was that?_

" _I haven't the slightest clue."_

America lowered his blanket slightly and peered at Russia, who remained by the fire. One hand slowly reached up to touch the scarf at his neck before falling away. Russia did not notice him, and America had no desire to ask. Instead he rolled over so his back was to Russia, and futilely tried to fall back asleep.

He felt Russia's eyes on his back the rest of the night.

XXXXXXX

Ruby did not sleep.

She pretended to, but she did not. She kept her back to Yang, and Ozpin, and Alfred, and  _everyone_ , hoping they would not notice she was awake and try to talk to her. She was awake to hear Alfred sit up, and heard Ivan drag him away.

She did not interfere. It was obvious Alfred did not want to go with Ivan, and was trying to get away from him without waking anyone, but she still did not sit up and stop them.

Her eye burned.

Ruby wanted to think she was a nice person, a good person, a heroic person, but she was beginning to suspect she was not. Because she laid there in silence as Ivan dragged Alfred away and did not feel bad for it.

Well, she did feel bad, but not bad enough to get up and follow them. When Ivan returned, then Alfred, and the latter laid too still in bed to be asleep again, she did not get up and talk to him.

She did not because she was childish and petty.

She was childish and petty because she blamed him.

There was a phrase she had heard a thousand times that said "Don't shoot the messenger." Ruby had not really understood its meaning before today. She now understood why someone could be angry at someone just for passing on information. Worse than that, Alfred was guilty of more than simply passing Salem's message. He was the reason for it in the first—

_Don't_.

Logically, Ruby knew it was not Alfred's fault that Salem attacked Frontier. It was all on Salem, who threw a tantrum because she lost. Ruby knew that. She did.

She  _did_.

Yet a part of her— the childish, petty, bitter side— wanted someone to blame. She wanted someone she could scream at that  _"This is your fault!"_  so he could hurt like she was hurting. For a moment she considered getting up and finally telling him what Neo said, just to see the look on his face when someone  _he_  cared about— should have been there to save— had been killed, but she was not  _that_  cruel. She was not that petty or childish. It was  _easy_  to blame Alfred, because Salem destroyed Frontier to hurt him. She might not even know Whitley, Klein, Sun, and Uncle Qrow were ever there. She probably did not care. She only attacked that town to hurt Alfred.

Ruby wondered if Yang, Weiss, Blake, or Winter blamed him, too.

Ruby gritted her teeth, eye burning, and gripped the talisman hanging around her neck. Guilt smothered her irrational anger for a moment. Here she was, relying on the talisman Arthur had given her to  _stay in control_  while she was unjustifiably angry at his younger brother.

_I'm such a hypocrite._

But the thoughts would not leave her alone. Especially since the alternative thoughts waiting in the wings were of her uncle's dea—

Ruby bit her lip and refused to cry. They did not know Uncle Qrow was dead. Maybe his aura of bad luck was good for something and he miraculously survived. Qrow was stubborn like that. He would find a way. She had to believe that.

For now, she could only stave off her grief, and stew in the bitter anger that replaced it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't judge Ruby too harshly here. As said in the chapter, she's grieving and wants someone to blame. And don't forget she is a teenager. She's not emotionally mature.


	23. Trouble Magnet

" _Canada? Canada, are you listening?"_

_Canada jolted in is seat and his eyes snapped open to see his Prime Minister's exasperated face. He took in the conference room they were in and realized he must have fallen asleep during a meeting again. His cheeks reddened._

" _Sorry. I drifted off."_

_His boss's eyes softened. "That is understandable. You've been through worse pain than I can imagine."_

_Confused, Canada cast his thoughts backwards but could not recall what the Prime Minister was speaking of. He nodded anyway._

_The Prime Minister accepted his response. "Now then. We cannot delay this discussion. This situation is… unprecedented. We must act soon before the public is affected."_

_The Prime Minister turned to the third person in the room and Canada belatedly recognized America's boss sitting in the corner. The President's appearance caught him off guard._

_The man sitting before him was a mere shell of the proud, strong-willed President he knew. His suit was as immaculate and pressed as ever, his hair neatly combed, but he had an air of defeat around him as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders but his knees buckled under the strain. His skin was ashen, his green eyes sunken and dull, and he held himself as if he were in physical pain, a hand twitching towards his chest. The President stared out the window with that hollow expression until he noticed the Prime Minister had addressed him and lowered his head._

" _You're right. We need to make sure." Even his voice was toneless and hollow, like he barely had the energy to utter the words._

" _We need to make sure of what?" Canada asked._

" _That you're our personification." the President whispered._

_He said the words with no joy, only the misery of someone speaking of a tragedy._

_Canada's brow furrowed in confusion. "I… What? Why would I be your personification?"_

_The two leaders glanced at him, then each other. The Prime Minister leaned over to whisper in the President's ear, but Canada heard the words anyway._

" _It must be shock." The Prime Minister turned to Canada and took hold of his hands, holding them as if the slightest pressure would break them. "Do you remember what happened, Canada?"_

_Canada shook his head but a jolt of fear pierced his heart. Something must have happened to America. Why else would his boss be here while his personification was absent?_

" _What happened to America?" he demanded shakily._

_The President flinched and gripped the arms of his chair._

_The Prime Minister would not look at him._

" _What happened to America?" Canada demanded again, voice cracking. "_ _ **Where's**_ _my brother?"_

_The Prime Minister's expression twisted with pity. The President covered his eyes and sobbed. Before Canada could demand answers again, the wall to the meeting room crumbled away, revealing another room beside it._

_Canada saw what lay within it and fell to his knees."No..."_

_Inside the room was a stone altar lit by green flames. A familiar crown-like symbol was carved into the altar's side, proud despite the blood that stained it, but Canada barely noticed it, unable to see anything except what lay on the stone._

_America was laid on the altar like a human sacrifice, his hands folded neatly over his chest. His tan skin was as pale as snow, his eyes gently closed as if he was only sleeping. As Canada watched, crimson trickled from beneath his twin's left eyelid, dripping down his face like tears, while more blood seeped from between his fingers, staining the remnants of his ripped blue shirt red._

_A soft gasp tore Canada out of his stupor and he turned his head. Japan stood at his side,_   _expression torn with horror and grief. Why was he here? Before Canada could stop him, Japan ran towards America's body and moved his hands aside, revealing what had to be the fatal blow. In America's chest was a deep, crimson hole._

_America's heart had been cut out._

Canada snapped awake and sat up, looking frantically to his left. America lay beside him, green eye covered, blue eye focused on his face, and his forehead crinkled.

"Mattie? You're up?"

His voice snapped Canada out of his daze and he lunged for America, arms wrapping around his brother's shoulders. America flinched and tensed up but Canada hardly noticed, too busy feeling how his brother's chest moved when he breathed. America was alive. He was fine. He had not been sacrificed for Remnant. It was just a bad dream.

Canada saw a dark-haired figure move in his peripheral and tensed, shifting so he was between America and Ozpin—

It was not Oscar who moved, but Japan. His dark gaze flicked to Canada and America and his revolver snapped up. He fired into the woods, and an Ursa collapsed into the clearing, its body already disintegrating. Those that were still asleep jerked awake, reaching for their weapons.

"Wha'z goin' on?" Nora mumbled, waving her hammer vaguely. "Why'z Matt up?"

"There was an Ursa. It has been killed." Japan said stoically.

_That_  woke everyone up— with the noticeable exception of Penny— and they rolled out of bed. Ren, Nora, and Australia went to check the perimeter. Weiss started packing, movements slow and stiff. Yang got out of the blanket she shared with Ruby. Her sister did not rise, instead curling up tighter under the covers.

America cleared his throat and Canada realized he was still gripping his brother tightly. He quickly released him but lingered close to his side as he glanced around. For some reason, this place made him uneasy. He just could not figure out  _why_. It was almost like he had been here before. But that was impossible. He had never seen this part of the forest before in his life.

Canada sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. His twin shot him a befuddled look but did not comment on his strange morning greeting, instead standing up. Seeing America stand, Jaune and Pyrrha got up as well. America's expression soured briefly before he sighed. He crouched and shook Penny's shoulder. The robots eyes flicked open and Canada frowned at how dull her normally gleaming green irises were. They brightened to their usual shade before he could worry.

"Hi, Penny. Did you rest well?" America asked.

Penny was not nearly so pleased. "I did not intend to go into sleep mode."

America covered up his wince with a smile. "Well, you can't just go on forever. You have to recharge sometimes."

"I should not have to." Penny denied. She stood up and brushed off her capris. "I suppose you need to go to the bathroom?"

America rolled his visible eye. "Yes. Thank you for informing the entire camp."

"You are welcome." Penny said blandly. Canada questioned whether the sarcasm had gone over her head or not.

America picked his way over Romano— and gave Russia a wide berth— before halting abruptly at the edge of camp. Before Canada could whip out Maple Frost, America rubbed his throat. His lips pressed together and he swallowed visibly, skin gaining a green tinge. Abruptly, he veered over to England. He leaned in close but Canada strained his ears, listening in with only a bit of guilt.

"Can you check again?"

America's voice was uncharacteristically soft and small as he made the request, and it took Canada a moment to realize what he was asking. When England understood, his eyes widened and he nodded sharply. In contrast to his coldly furious expression, his voice was gentle.

"Of course, poppet."

America mumbled something too low for Canada to overhear and hurried into the woods with his brother and guards. Canada lowered his gaze and picked up his blanket, folding it neatly. A little ways away, Ruby finally sat up, her hair in disarray. She did not speak a word as she rose and began putting away her own sleeping area. Canada caught a glimpse of her face and had to look away.

"Are you okay, Kiku?" Italy asked, providing a nice distraction. The Italian picked his way past those that were packing and put a hand to his friend's forehead. "You look pale."

Japan gently pushed Italy's hand away. "I am fine." he claimed. "I merely slept badly and had a disturbing dream."

"Who  _didn't_?" Yang muttered, putting a hand to her head.

Japan grimaced but did not reply.

XXXXXXX

The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky when Blake's ears flicked. "Does anyone else hear that?"

"Be  _more_  vague, why don't you." Weiss scoffed

She angrily shoved a tree branch out of her face. It whipped back around and smacked her in the back of the head. Weiss ground her teeth and slashed the offending branch and it fell to the ground with a pathetic thunk. Weiss kicked it aside irritably, stalking ahead. Ruby was much nicer to the poor branch and circled around it, fiddling with Crescent Rose.

Blake's cat ears swiveled to the left. "I hear a whirring sound."

"All I hear are these bloody flies." Arthur snarled, swatting at one as it landed on his cheek.

"These bugs have certainly become a nuisance." Pyrrha commented as she waved her hand around her head.

"Well our bug spray is at  _the bottom of a_   _lake_." Weiss snapped.

Pyrrha shot a look her way but was too polite to comment on her agitated reply. She waved her hand again and balked, grimacing at her palm.

Jett glanced at her hand and his eyebrows crept up. "You actually hit one. Congrats."

Pyrrha grimaced and hastily wiped her hand on a leaf. "It  _crunched_."

"Ew." Yang muttered.

" _Five o'clock_." Ren said sharply.

Jett twisted and shot a Beowolf in its mouth. It disintegrated before it hit the ground. He lowered his pistols and twirled them, but did not return them to their holsters.

"They're determined today, aren't they? That's the fifth one in the past half-hour." he commented with deceptive casualness.

"I  _wonder_  why they're so eager?" Blake murmured sarcastically.

Despite her sarcasm, Ruby was not sure what she meant. Were the Grimm so active because Salem was intent on tracking Alfred—  _Don't_.— or because half their group was grieving—

_Uncle Qrow is fine. He is not dea— He is fine. He is_ _**fine** _ _. He just can't contact us right now. That's all._

"Nine o'clock!" Ren barked.

Ruby's bullet sank between the Ursa's eyes. Its body fell next to Feliciano, who shrieked and stabbed it. He did not notice the Grimm's corpse was already disintegrating and stabbed it once more. Alfred stopped Feliciano from stabbing it a third time.

"Thanks for double— er, triple-tapping but I'm pretty sure it's dead."

Feliciano's cheeks turned pink. Alfred chuckled and smiled at Ruby. She did not smile back. Alfred's grin faltered and faded away. A shadow fell over him but Ivan and Blake were already firing. The Nevermore's body hit the ground next to Feliciano, who recoiled.

Blake lowered her guns with a grimace. "How long before something nastier than Nevermores shows up?"

"Don't jinx it." Jaune groaned.

"Too late." Yang muttered.

She walked ahead, gauntlets deployed, and the others followed. Ruby noticed Oscar standing in place and halted next to him, peering cautiously into the foliage.

"Is something there?"

Oscar jumped, blinking rapidly, and Ruby thought there were gold flecks in his eyes. They were gone before she could be sure.

"Sorry." Oscar apologized. "Ozpin was just telling me there are ruins nearby."

Ruby followed his gaze to an oddly-shaped stone that stood alone in the woods If she tipped her head, it almost looked like a carved column.

"What kind of ruins?" she asked.

Oscar frowned and huffed, blowing a lock of hair out of his face. "Ozpin says 'Wait and see'."

Rather than excite or exasperate Ruby, the reply made her uneasy. "Are the ruins safe?"

Oscar paused before nodding. "Extremely. Apparently the ruins keep Grimm out."

That created more questions than it answered. How could abandoned ruins keep Grimm out when populated areas struggled? What kind of ruins were they? How did Ozpin know about them? Ruby resigned herself not to get answers if she asked— she knew how Ozpin worked by now— so she merely nodded. Up ahead, Blake halted in place, ears swiveling.

"That noise still bugging you, Blake?" Yang asked casually.

"Yes." Blake said, a frown playing at her lips.

"I have headphones if you need to cover your ears." Francis offered.

"I'm fine. It's only irritating because I can't identify it but I know I  _know_  what it is."

Jaune's head bobbed. "Ah. That can be annoying."

Blake nodded absently, ears still twitching. "It is. If I just..." Abruptly she went rigid. "It's an  _airship_."

"We can ask for a lift to Vale." Ruby gasped.

It was only after she spoke that her teammate's tone registered. Ruby snapped Crescent Rose into its scythe form. Pyrrha stepped in front of Alfred. She was not the only one. Everyone else gathered around him, with Penny, Matthew, Arthur, and Kiku lingering the closest. Alfred's protest was lost in the roar of approaching engines.

Ruby noticed Ozpin was directly behind Alfred, hand on his cane. Her teeth clenched.

Without warning, Kiku grabbed Alfred and yanked him into the foliage. Ozpin flinched forward as if to grab Alfred's sleeve but stopped— or missed?— leaving his hand empty. Without hesitation, Pyrrha dashed after Alfred and Kiku. The three vanished from sight, with the entire exchange happening in a millisecond that left the others scrambling to do the same.

Ruby knew it was futile. Her bright red cloak stood out like a rose in a field of grass, as did Matthew's sweatshirt. The roar of the airship became unbearably loud and air blasted down from above. It rattled the tree branches and whipped Weiss's hair. Ruby's eyes snapped up and she spotted the vessel. It was far bigger than Sterlyn's ship, but not a hulking behemoth like the Atlas military's vessels.

Red light flared, striking the airship, and it  _exploded_  into a fireball above them. Ruby flinched, covering her ears as the roar of the explosion reverberated through her skull. Arthur lowered his staff, expression cold and remorseless as the airship fell towards the trees. A door slid open on the side and figures dropped from the burning vessel. Ruby caught sight of familiar green hair and she aimed Crescent Rose, firing before her mind could fully register what she was seeing.

Emerald deflected the shots, disappearing into the foliage to their right. Ruby's heart skipped a beat before she remembered Kiku, Pyrrha, and Alfred had gone left. The burning airship vanished from sight but Ruby felt it hit the ground, shaking the earth as smoke drifted up from the trees. The foliage rustled and she pointed her sniper rifle at the trees.

Emerald emerged fearlessly— or perhaps more accurately, recklessly— out of the shrubbery and glared at Matthew. She was not the only one who had escaped from the crash without injury. Next to her was a black-clothed, red-haired man. Ruby heard Yang gasp. Before she could speak to her sister, a soft rattling caught her attention and she saw Blake's hands were trembling.

"Adam." she whispered.

Ruby glanced at the tall, red-haired Faunus warily. So that was Blake's former leader. He was the guy who led the White Fang and turned them radical. He was the one who had the White Fang attack Beacon.

_He was the one who cut off Yang's arm._

Ruby's eye  _pulsed_. She sucked in a breath between her teeth and rubbed it furiously. When she lowered her hand again, Emerald and Adam were not alone. Masked figures—both Faunus and Grimm— had joined them, along with two more faces Ruby would be happy never seeing again.

"Hey, Red." Roman Torchwick greeted casually, giving her a lazy wave. "Our boss sent us to pick up a package for her. Could you tell me where her property ran off to?"

Ruby heard Penny's weapons click behind her. Mercury's stance shifted slightly in response. Ruby ignored the pressure in her eye and scanned the newcomers carefully. Her team was outnumbered by the humans and Faunus alone, and she could spot a few higher-level Grimm among the masks studying them from the shadows. It was unnerving to see the Grimm waiting patiently instead of mindlessly attacking, and she realized Salem must be directly in control of them. To what extent, she did not know, and she prayed that the Queen of the Grimm would be too busy controlling her creatures to appear herself.

"Still waiting for an answer, Red." Roman called, and Ruby's skin crawled.

Ruby gritted her teeth, biting back a retort. Matthew's hand brushed her arm, urging her to keep quiet. The violet-eyed twin stared coolly at Roman.

"How did you find us?" he asked.

Ruby resisted the urge to shoot him a confused look. Surely the Grimm's presences were answer enough? She noticed Emerald's knuckles turn white but saw Jett had his eyes on her, his pistols gripped tightly at his sides.

Roman smirked. It twisted his face, making his scar look even more grotesque. "Little bit of science. Little bit of magic. You know, you should really be more careful with those ne—"

"Enough, Roman."

Ruby's skin crawled as Adam spoke. His voice was not what she expected. She expected a deep, sadistic tone, loud shouts and snarling threats. Instead Adam sounded authoritative and  _calm_ , almost reasonable. This was the monster that scared Blake, took part in attacking Beacon, and  _hurt Yang_. Ruby blinked rapidly, briefly gripping her talisman. The burning pressure lessened and she breathed evenly. She had to stay in control. She could not afford to fall to the Silver Eyes' influence now.

It was near-impossible to tell exactly where Adam was looking with the Grimm-like mask that covered his eyes, but the cold set of his mouth showed he was not content to let Roman waste their time. Similarly, Emerald was scowling impatiently, though her furious red eyes never strayed from Matthew. Ruby shifted just a little closer to the twin—

Francis gasped.

Ruby's gaze snapped to him to see he was frozen in place, head strained back with a Deathstalker's stinger lay against his throat.

"Did you miss me,  _Vacuo_?" Tyrian purred.

Francis's eyes went round.

XXXXXXX

America struggled angrily in Japan and Pyrrha's holds as his friends dragged him away from the others. He was not foolish enough to start yelling at them to let him go, nor did he use all of his strength to try to break free. Because although he wanted nothing more than to run back to his friends' sides, he was not  _that_  much of an idiot. He could not rush in without a plan, especially since a majority of his friends might be all-too-willing to pay for his recklessness. That did not mean he was happy to be dragged further and further away from the fight.

"Guys, we can't just  _leave_ them." he hissed, careful to keep his voice low.

Neither Japan nor Pyrrha relinquished their hold on him. In fact, their grips tightened. America took a shaky breath and turned his head so Pyrrha— who was  _not_  a guard or Atlas soldier dressed in grey— was no longer in his blind spot. A distant explosion made the ground shudder, and America saw smoke blackening the sky. He yanked his arms free but only made it a step before Pyrrha grabbed him again.

"Alfred,  _don't_." she whispered. "They'll be fine."

Despite her claim, he could feel her hands shaking. America bit his lip hard, focusing on the painful pinch instead of his budding panic. He wanted to believe Pyrrha. He knew Canada and England and Ruby and the others were capable. But that did not change the fact that whoever was in that airship was after  _him_. The others were fighting because of  _him_.

_I'm_ _**not worth it** _ _, dammit!_

" _That won't stop them."_ Vale said quietly, and the desire to fight faded away, leaving a hollow numbness behind.

A terrifying scream pierced the air and America recognized France's voice. Common sense was forgotten as he yanked himself out of Japan and Pyrrha's restraining holds, rushing towards the sound. The hair on his nape prickled and he instinctively dropped to the ground. The air above him seemed to warp and a body flew over him as the trees around him exploded into shards of wood.

America covered his head, biting back a startled scream as he was buried in wood and fallen foliage. The bigger trunks missed him, but one landed directly on his ankle. America grunted in pain and carefully pulled the limb free with a wince. He began to push himself up, cringing as his ankle twinged.

_That's going to bruise. Thank God for Aura—_

" _Stay down!"_  Vale snapped.

America ducked, laying flat on his stomach, and a blur shot over him. He scarcely had time to recognize France before the nation lunged for something behind him. America pushed himself to his feet, raising Cobalt Striker, and did a double take. Out of all the nations, France had to be one of the most elegant and graceful he knew. Even when he fought, France's movements were smooth and almost flaunting as he battled with the poise of a dancer.

As France lunged for Tyrian Callows, his movements were anything but graceful. In fact, they reminded America more of a wild animal. Fancy swordplay and elaborate poses were forgotten in favor of brutal stabs and slashes. As America watched, open-mouthed, Tyrian started on the defensive and remained there, visibly startled by France's viciousness. His gaze flicked past France and yellow eyes landed on America.

Tyrian grinned. " _Vale_."

France's fist met Tyrian's nose with a resounding  _crunch_. Purple Aura flared and alarm flashed briefly across the Faunus's face. France's foot hooked around Tyrian's ankle and the Faunus fell. He barely blocked a stab that would have gone through his throat. France's lips twisted into a snarl and he stomped on the Faunus's tail, stopping it from stabbing him in the side. America might applaud his viciousness if this wasn't  _France_.

" _What's_ _ **wrong**_ _with him?"_  Vale asked nervously.

America did not have an answer. He watched mutely as Tyrian shoved France away. France landed in a sprawled heap but Tyrian's blow bounced back, nearly hitting the Faunus. France rose up, striking Tyrian with the hilt of his saber, and any sign of glee vanished from the Faunus's face.

America considered joining the fight but with the way France was attacking, he might just get in the way. He spotted movement in the woods and settled for blasting the approaching Grimm and White Fang to ashes, keeping them from interfering. One of the Ursa stared at him with a little  _too_  much intensity and he swore its body  _rippled_  like ink. He incinerated it before it could become something else.

Tyrian howled. America took in his bloody arms and realized France had cut off the Faunus's weapons. France kicked the claws away, deflecting Tyrian's tail, and punched him directly in the throat. Tyrian's eyes bugged out and France shoved him to the ground. France's boot slammed down on Tyrian's chest and his saber touched the Faunus's throat.

"How does it feel to be beaten? To be  _helpless_?" he snarled. "You think you can manipulate me? You think you can hunt  _my family_  without consequence?"

He grabbed Tyrian's tail as it stabbed towards his chest. The sound of snapping bone elicited a cringe from America and a scream from Tyrian. Shock became rage and Tyrian snarled at France, yellow eyes wide and crazed.

" _Bastard!_ " he screamed. "Vale belongs only to my Goddess. How  _dare_  you keep my gift to her for yourself."

France's expression made an icy tundra look warm. "My brother is  _not_  a gift. He is  _not_  your plaything.  _None_  of us are your playthings." He leaned forward, digging the tip of his saber into Tyrian's flesh and drawing out a bead of blood. "And I am  _not_  Vacuo. I am  _France_."

In one deft movement, France slit Tyrian's throat.

Yellow eyes went round and Tyrian choked, Deathstalker tail twitching uselessly before it fell to his side. His mouth moved, but only a wet gurgling came out, and soon the life in his eyes faded. France stepped off of the Faunus and stared down at him, face cold. It took a full minute for America to find the courage to speak.

"France?" America barely recognized his own voice, stunned by how small and uncertain it sounded.

France's shoulders stiffened and he slowly turned towards America. Cold eyes glared at him and America saw France's pupils were blown wide. His nearly pitch black eyes narrowed to slits and he turned back to Tyrian's corpse. Before America could do more than gasp, France stabbed the Faunus in the chest. He yanked his bloody blade free and marched towards America.

" _Run."_  Vale whispered.  _"RUN!"_

America could not obey her plea. He stood numbly in place as France approached, eyes wild and saber covered in blood. France stopped in front of him and America flinched, staying stock still as France's arms wrapped around him. France did not appear to notice his unease as he hummed softly, one hand brushing America's hair. Despite himself, America slowly relaxed. He had no clue what was going on, but France did not seem to want to harm him. France stopped patting his hair and hugged him tightly, rocking him back and forth like he was comforting a small child.

"It is alright. You are safe now." he mumbled. "No one will hurt you while I am here, Matthieu."

America hardly dared to breathe. France's arms were no longer comforting, but suffocating as they pressed around him. He forced himself to swallow, careful to keep still with his weapon gripped loosely— non-threateningly— in his hand.

"France, I'm Alfred. America." he said carefully.

France stiffened. Slowly, his hands drifted upward, brushing America's neck, and for a heart-stopping moment he thought France might strangle him. Instead they continued on, cupping his cheeks, and France squinted at his face like he could not quite see him.

"Alfred." he murmured to himself. "Oui, I see. No one will hurt you either."

Keeping his hands on America's cheeks, he gently pressed his forehead against the younger nation's. America did not know how to respond to that, so he stood in silence, not daring to move. He blinked, and France's pupils were back to their normal size, the blue clearly visible once more.

In the distance, Weiss screamed. Branches cracked and America saw a blue and white figure falling from the treetops. He jerked forward and caught her, nearly tripping and kissing the ground in the process. He saved himself from that embarrassing fall and set Weiss down.

"You okay?"

"Fine." Weiss panted, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. She spotted France and eyed him warily. "Are  _you_ okay?"

"Oui." France said briefly.

Weiss's expression suggested she did not fully believe him but she let it go. "We need to get back. Adam's being a bit of an issue. So are Emerald and Roman. And Hazel and Watts showed up as well."

America grimaced. "Great. The whole evil party decided to come say 'Hi'."

" _What about Salem?"_  Vale asked urgently.

America repeated the question.

Weiss grimaced. "Not yet. That's part of the problem. Most of us have to focus on killing the Grimm before she can form. She's been trying."

America spotted a black figure and shot it through the skull. The Beowolf collapsed and its form wavered briefly before disintegrating. He gripped Cobalt Striker in both hands and ran after Weiss and France towards the others. They passed through more shattered trees and America noticed the damage all seemed to originate from one spot. He risked a glance at France but the nation did not acknowledge him. His expression was hard again.

They emerged into the newly-formed clearing to see their allies scattered. Ruby and Canada fought Emerald, taking extra care to avoid contact with her Grimm tendrils. Nora, Jaune, and Ren faced Hazel. Japan, Pyrrha, and Russia fought Watts. Yang and England faced Adam. Everyone else frantically beat back wave after wave of White Fang and Grimm. As America watched, Ozpin sliced three rippling Ursa into pieces, jaw clenched and quivering. Hazel's eyes snapped to him but Nora lunged for him, forcing him to block her hammer.

The only one not fighting was Blake. She was frozen in place, while Sterlyn lingered at her side and shot any Grimm that came close. Her ears were pressed against her head, her eyes impossibly round, and only the rapid jerks of her chest showed she had not been turned to stone. A shadow fell over her but America shot the Griffon from the sky, letting its body crash into the writhing swarm of black that was the Grimm. He halted next to Blake, stabbing an Ursa before it could slash her.

"Blake, what's wrong?" he asked.

Her fingers twitched and a tendon in her her throat quivered and strained. "Adam." she choked. "Semblance. Can't."

America had no clue what Semblance she was referring to but he had some ideas. He glared at Adam in time to see Yang hit the ground, skin white. Adam advanced on the girl but England intercepted, throwing him away. He stepped forward, only to be forced back as a Griffon snapped at him.

America's heart sank. There were too many Grimm, and they just kept coming. Eventually one of them would falter, leaving them with a hostage situation or worse. America was not the only one to realize they were outmatched. Ozpin's cane glowed and he blasted a swarm of Creeps away, landing next to America.

"On my signal, run south. The ruins are not far and they are magically protected. We will be safe there."

" _Duck!"_  Vale shouted.

America ducked, feeling something shoot over his head. He rolled to the left, nearly smacking into Penny, and she grabbed him, yanking him to her as her swords slammed together into a shield. Something struck the shield and exploded. Penny pulled America behind her and separated the shield. Her green eyes narrowed.

"According to my memory banks, you are Roman Torchwick."

Roman casually balanced his weapon on his shoulder. "Well according to my memory you were sliced to pieces."

He spoke to Penny, but his eyes never strayed from America. The nation did not need a speech to know what Roman was thinking. His gaze unwittingly followed the nasty scar on Roman's face and he grimaced.

_And now there's_ _**this** _ _._

" _Bastard deserved it."_ Vale hissed.

Penny scowled. "I am not Penny Polendina."

She shot forward, launching herself up, and her feet slammed into Roman's face. He swore, blocking her follow-up strike, and shoved her away. Penny hit the ground and shook her head, something close to pain on her face.

America… didn't care. He watched numbly as his friends all fought for him, feeling nothing even as Ren collapsed with flickering Aura and Pyrrha was thrown through a tree. He should feel guilty or worried, or scared, but instead he felt empty and cold. What was the point of any of this? Why bother fighting? Why bother doing  _anything_  to stop them? They were outnumbered and outmatched. He was just being stupidly 'heroic' again, delaying the inevitable and getting people hurt in the process—

" _Alfred, snap out of it!"_  Vale snapped.

America blinked and ducked, scarcely evading Mercury's kick. Mercury smirked at him and settled into a balanced stance.

"Hey, Al." he greeted casually.

Memories of his last encounter with his 'friend' flooded America's mind and all remnants of his disinterest fled. He calmly stepped forward, hand flicking almost daintily as it struck Mercury's forehead, and the assassin vanished into the foliage, leaving a broken tree behind. The tree creaked and tipped over, nearly landing on Roman. He dodged at the last second, eyes wide, and glared at America.

America felt the familiar dark void of emptiness beckon to him but he shoved it away. Despite his resolve, shame pooled in his stomach as he realized what had happened. Of all the times to let his misery get the best of him—

" _That wasn't you."_  Vale growled.  _"Remember what Romano said?"_

America recalled Romano's tale of uncaring citizens and breathed a little easier.

Penny appeared at his side, green eyes roaming the area.

"I have lost visual on Roman Torchwick. I failed to terminate him." she reported tersely.

"He's still here." America murmured.

Jaws filled his vision but he ducked and bashed the Beringel in its midsection. The Grimm grimaced and made a grab for him but Penny stabbed it until it resembled a pincushion. A Boarbatusk charged them but it went down in a rain of gunfire. Four Alphas took its place. America scanned the treeline and his heart sank. There was too much black among the green. Unless someone decided to paint the leaves, they were completely surrounded by Grimm.

"Arthur, _now!_ " Ozpin shouted.

Without hesitation, England raised his staff and brought it down. The blast floored everyone, nation, human, Grimm, and Faunus alike, but before America could do more than shake his head to try to clear it, Penny was pulling him along. England strode ahead, staff glowing ominously, and the Grimm in his path disintegrated.

" _Move!_ " he snapped, sending a blast at Watts.

The scientist dropped to the floor and the energy passed over his head, incinerating a few trees. Everyone else broke away from their fight, with Weiss grabbing Blake's hand and pulling her away.

"Matthew, let's _go._ " she shouted.

Canada was still facing Emerald, dodging and blocking the vein-like tendrils. At Weiss's call, he glanced away from his opponent and the tendrils struck him directly in the chest. He grunted, flying back, and hit the ground hard. America threw a lance of lightning at Emerald and she barely dodged, cringing and shaking her arm. America launched a fireball at her face, forcing her to retreat, and helped Canada to his feet.

"Matt—"

"I'm fine." Canada panted. "Go.  _Go_."

They fled through the trees, following Ozpin as he led the way to what may be their only chance. The ground shuddered as the horde of Grimm and enemies ran after them. Black appeared in his peripheral and Canada dragged him down, firing a bullet through the Beowolf's skull. An Ursa replaced it and America put his bayonet through its throat. A Creep lunged for him but Yang intercepted, punching it through a tree.

" _They're after you."_

_No,_ _**really** _ _?_

Something heavy landed behind him but metal sliced through flesh, and the footsteps that followed America were distinctly human. America felt someone running behind him. A quick glance showed Jaune was guarding his six, shield out and sword in hand. Pyrrha was at his side, and another glance showed Nora and Ren at Canada's left. America bit back an angry protest as he spotted grey stone among the green of the leaves and foliage.

The ruins did not look the least bit secure. In fact, they had more holes than Swiss cheese, and looked as if a breath of wind would send the stones crumbling down. Yet when Ozpin ran into the cobblestone entrance, green symbols appeared on the floor, following the border of the ruins. Ozpin halted right inside the ruins, mouth moving as he ushered the others inside. A Nevermore dove for him but fifty feet above him, it burst into green flames. Its corpse turned to nothing in an instant, not even the slightest bit of ash falling into the ruins.

_Apparently it_ _ **is**_ _safe_ , America thought, stunned.  _How did Ozpin manage that?_

In his mind, Vale shuddered.

Ruby and Yang passed into the sanctuary, as did Blake. A Griffon that tried to attack France was burned to nothingness, as was an Alpha. As they approached, America let go of Canada's hand, ready to attack anything that tried to reach them in the final stretch.

He passed through the barrier with no issue, but as Canada stepped up to it, green light flared. Canada cried out, knees buckling, and he collapsed at the edge of the safe area. America lurched towards him, grabbing his twin, and yanked him into the protective circle. The green light seemed to cling to Canada like it wanted to keep him out— Did it think Mantle was a threat or something?— but America was not about to let Ozpin's magic cost him his brother. He pulled Canada through and the light released the violet-eyed twin, causing both brothers to fall to the stone floor.

A Creep ran at them and burst into green flames. The remaining Grimm immediately halted, as did Salem's minions. America hastily backed away from the edge, dragging Canada along. His brother's head lolled slightly but his eyes were open. They were noticeably glassy, like he was in pain.

America's concern became a secondary priority as the swarm of Grimm parted, allowing a familiar dark figure through. Salem seemed to glide more than walk as she approached the barrier, her progress agonizingly meticulous as she covered the short distance between the trees and their sanctuary. She halted just outside of the ruins, mere inches from the barrier, and reached out with a pale, veined hand. Green energy flared and she studied her smoking fingers with an almost curious air. Her gaze rose, staring not at America, but at Ozpin.

"You never learn, Ozpin." she said softly. "They will not let you take what you seek."

Her eyes flicked to America but he stood firm, glaring back at her. Her lips twitched with cruel amusement and she opened her mouth, but closed it again without saying a word. Ozpin did not reply to her previous taunt, glowering at her with smoldering golden eyes. Salem turned her back on him and walked away, pausing briefly beside Watts.

"Keep them here." was all she said.

Then her form turned to smoke, revealing a simple Beowolf. The Grimm's legs wavered and it collapsed, fading into ashes and leaving nothing behind. A hand latched onto America's arm and he flinched, looking at Jaune. The knight's face was pale.

"Let's get inside."

America swallowed and nodded. As he followed Jaune into the ruins, he noticed that Winter, Nora, Australia, Japan, and Russia had remained outside, likely to guard the entrance. Salem's forces and the Grimm could not enter the ruins now, but he bet they had already surrounded the place. He pretended not to notice Pyrrha and Penny following him blatantly, while Yang and Blake lingered close by.

At first glance, the ruins appeared to be nothing special— they were empty stone rooms, nothing more— but America bet there were more interesting areas deeper in. As they entered the windowless entrance hall, he noticed the doors lined along the sides of the hall. A peek inside one showed it led to another windowless room. His stomach dropped into his shoes.

_Vale, is there another way out? Another door? Secret tunnels?_

" _No."_ Vale said tersely.

_Then we're trapped in here._

" _Most likely."_

"Damn it." America breathed.

Yang shot him a look, lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Did you just realize how screwed we are?"

Italy gave a low, frightened moan.

"We're not." Ruby denied before America could respond. "We'll figure this out." She rubbed her eye with the back of her hand.

"We have limited food and no exits except ones mobbed by enemies. And they're not going to leave until they get what they want." Yang said bluntly. "How are we not screwed?"

"We'll figure this out." Ruby repeated. "Maybe there are secret tunnels or—"

"Vale says there aren't." America interjected.

Ruby hesitated. "...Ah."

Yang shook her head and shot Ozpin a glare. "Thanks for leading us into a corner,  _Oz_."

Although Ozpin frowned at her, he appeared unbothered by her ire. "If we had remained in the open we would have been overwhelmed. In here, we have a little more time at the very least." He sighed and shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead. "I did not expect Salem to be so forward, or direct such a large chunk of her forces to one task."

"She has three Relics and only needs Alfred for the last. Why  _wouldn't_  she be cocky?" Yang asked rhetorically.

America repressed a shudder.

"Indeed. Her methods have likely changed." England added. He scowled Ozpin's way. "I think you might want to stop relying on past encounters with Salem to predict her actions. This is, what, the  _third_  time you've been wrong?"

Ozpin's lips thinned.

"Arthur?" Canada interrupted calmly. "I think I have a problem."

He stood with his back against a stone wall, his right hand pressed to his chest. Even in the dim light of the ruins, his face was visibly pale and covered with a sheen of sweat. Before America could rush over to Canada, his twin moved his hand away, revealing a small tear in his shirt over his heart. Visible through he ripped fabric was a tiny cut, no larger than a fingernail. The tiny bit of blood that seeped from the cut was not red.

It was  _black_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I bring Tyrian back with a new Deathstalker tail and kill him off in a rather one-sided battle all in the same chapter? Yes. Yes I did. Well, he did show up before but he was instantly knocked out…
> 
> I can't decide if I did that because I wanted one of the heroes to take out one of Salem's minions relatively easily or if I just don't like Tyrian. I think it might be the latter reason. XD Truthfully I didn't have a reason to keep Tyrian alive past this point. As many of you are aware by now, if I don't have use for a character they might go on the chopping block.


	24. The Ones Who Suffer Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating because I have no self-control, haha.

Pyrrha was moving before she fully realized what she was seeing. She grabbed Matthew and shoved him behind her, barely registering his startled cry. Her weapons flicked to her hands and she met golden eyes firmly, refusing to drop her gaze.

"Stay back."

Ozpin's eyebrows rose. He jerked forward as Alfred rushed past Pyrrha to his brother's side. Yang stepped into Ozpin's path, cracking her knuckles.

"You might want to keep your distance." she warned.

Ozpin's alarmed gaze never left Alfred. "Alfred, get away from him."

Alfred ignored him and crouched at his brother's side. "Let me see." he pleaded.

Matthew kept his arms over his chest. "It's not that bad—"

" _MATTHEW WILLIAMS!_ " Francis thundered. "Do not try to hide your injuries from us  _again!_ "

Matthew recoiled with a wince. In contrast to Francis, Arthur was surprisingly gentle as he touched Matthew's arm.

"Let me see."

Matthew's expression crumpled and he reluctantly lifted his shirt. Pyrrha forced herself to not look away from Ozpin as Alfred emitted a small sound that could tear the coldest heart apart. She inadvertently turned her head, catching sight of Matthew in her peripheral, and wished with all her heart that she had not.

Red-tinged black veins stretched outward from his chest, laid out like spiderwebs over the area that held his heart. As Pyrrha watched, they shifted nauseatingly under his skin, writhing like living shadows. Matthew's skin blanched and he sucked in a pained breath.

"Ren!" Arthur snapped. "Keep him calm."

Ren hurried over and grabbed Matthew's hand without hesitation. The twin's fingers wrapped around his, nearly bone-white next to his comparatively tan skin. Arthur backed away and lifted his glowing staff. Temporary measures that would leave the temple undamaged were forsaken in favor of carving runes into the floor with a steady stream of light.

Ozpin's posture tensed but he did not protest as Arthur irreparably marred the stones. Pyrrha noticed she was not the only one watching him carefully. It did not hearten her in the least that they all looked at Ozpin with their hands on or near their weapons. The only exception was Penny, who stood placidly near Alfred with her swords sheathed. Her expression was unnervingly blank, and Pyrrha knew she would never decipher it if she had a thousand years to try.

England completed the array and ushered Matthew into it. Pyrrha knew better than to think he was ignorant when Canada abruptly flinched out of his grasp, holding his hands to his chest as if the action would keep the Grimm essence away from his brother. Arthur performed the ritual and a three-dimensional scan of Matthew's body appeared above him. His skin gained a sickly green tinge in the dull light cast by the spell. Pyrrha risked a glance and had to look away.

Black lines surrounded Matthew's heart, clinging to the organ like thorns.

"How bad is it?" Canada asked, and Pyrrha realized he had closed his eyes.

Arthur said nothing.

Matthew chuckled weakly. "That bad, huh?"

"Can you remove it?" America begged.

Pyrrha's gaze drifted unwilling back to the chain-like black tendrils that crept over Matthew's heart.

"No." Arthur spat the word like poison. "Not unless we— we—"

Pyrrha comprehended what he was implying and nearly gagged. The nations were almost immortal and could usually heal from any wound, but they still felt pain. They still needed to recover from injuries. Her gaze jerked to the tendrils again and she saw they had crept further outward, slithering towards Canada's lungs.

In order to remove them all, they would have to remove a huge chunk of Matthew's chest as well.

"How long would it take for Matthew to recover?" Ozpin asked.

Pyrrha focused fully on him, noting the metal pieces on his weapon, while America shifted so he was between Ozpin and his twin again. Arthur and Francis glowered, and Weiss stepped silently closer, hand on Myrtenaster. Ozpin seemed ignorant to their increased aggressiveness, eyes never straying from Matthew.

"Probably at least a week." Feliciano mentioned when no one else spoke. His entire body quivered with tension, and Pyrrha could not say whether his first instinct would be to attack or flee if he were startled.

"We do not have that much time." Ozpin murmured.

A green-tinged glow colored the walls, and Pyrrha heard the soft crackle of lightning.

"Performing surgery on Matthew Williams is inadvisable." Penny said suddenly. "I suggest we find an alternative course of action to deal with the Grimm essence."

Her neutral tone set off alarm bells in Pyrrhas head. Did Penny disagree with Ozpin or did she consider Matthew Williams a threat to Alfred F. Jones's safety? Pyrrha eyed her warily but found no answers on her emotionless face.

The diagnostic spell faded and Matthew sat up. "I don't think we can do anything." he said heavily.

"Don't say that, Mattie—"

"Arthur doesn't have a spell and I can't go under the knife to have this removed." Matthew stated. He shivered but raised his chin. "I think I'm stuck with this for a while."

"You do realize that Salem may be able to influence you?"

If Ozpin's hand were anywhere near his cane, Pyrrha would already be attacking him. As it were, she gave him her last shreds of her faith in him and trusted him not to attempt to harm Matthew in front of everyone. Unease flashed across Matthew's face before his expression abruptly smoothed out. He gave Ren a nod of thanks.

Alfred was nowhere near so appeased. "Want to repeat that?"

Pyrrha briefly spotted his monochrome green eye. His pupil and the whites of his eye were completely gone, swallowed by the glow. Ruby saw the same and bit her lip, planting a hand over her own eye.

Ozpin was unrepentant. "We no longer know Salem's limits. She intended to infect you with the Grimm essence, but failed. Now Emerald has infected Matthew and we do not know what that will do to him. As such, he is a threat to us and our mission."

Lightning flared over America's frame and he rose to his full height, towering over Ozpin. "Like  _hell_  he is. Stop acting like Mattie's going to turn into Salem's puppet and start killing everyone. If Salem was in control somehow, he would have hidden the marks instead of showing us immediately."

"You do not know that." Ozpin said ominously. "You do not know what she is capable of."

"Neither do  _you_." Alfred snapped.

Ozpin's golden eyes burned.

 _Ozpin hasn't done anything_ , Pyrrha reminded herself, finger tense on Miló's trigger.  _Remain calm. Don't be the one to shoot first._

"When did your Aura break?" Blake asked abruptly.

Matthew avoided her gaze. "It didn't."

It took a moment for the implications of that statement to sink in. Matthew lurched in Ren's hold, trying to break away, but he refused to release him, eyes closed in concentration. Seeing Ren would not let him go despite the possible risk, Canada gave up and looked to his fellow nations.

"Maybe I should go home."

"No." England said instantly. "We don't know enough about this… substance. If… If this substance can transfer, we do not want it to spread on Earth."

"Stop acting like Salem is about to burst out of his chest." Alfred snapped.

Matthew's skin lost the little remaining color it had. His hand never strayed from his heart. The sound of loud footsteps sent them all reaching for their weapons but it was only Nora.

"Good news." she crowed. "The shield thingy is holding. Like a bazillion Grimm all turned to dust when they hit it and its still strong." She noticed their expressions and her smile faded. "What's wrong?"

"What's happening outside?" Ozpin demanded.

Nora frowned at him but responded promptly. "The creeps— not just the Grimm kind— are all just  _standing_  there or walking around the perimeter. It's freaky. But they can't seem to get in."

Ozpin relaxed. "None of Salem's followers can set foot inside this temple."

His gaze flicked to Matthew but Alfred stepped between them again. Nora noticed the twins and shifted closer to them, blatantly facing Ozpin.

"What's going on?"

"Emerald infected Matthew with a Grimm parasite—"

" _We don't know_  if it's a parasite." Alfred snarled. "We don't know what it is, or what it can do. All we know is he has some Grimm gunk inside him and is  _in pain_ yet you are acting like he's about to—"

"Al."

Matthew put a hand on Alfred's arm. Ozpin's hand latched onto his cane and the twin froze in place, hastily jerking his hand away from his brother's shoulder. Alfred shoved Matthew behind him and bared his teeth, skin crackling with electricity.

" _Stop!_ " Ruby snapped, stepping between them. "Professor Ozpin, leave Matthew alone. He isn't hurting anybody. Alfred, no one's going to hurt Matthew."

Alfred's glare never left Ozpin. "Oh,  _yeah_. I believe that."

"I have no intention of harming your brother, Mister Jones." Ozpin swore. "We simply need to proceed with caution."

"Stop acting like you're not doing anything wrong." America breathed. "And stop looking at my brother like he's a  _monster!_ "

"I swear I am not, Alfred." Ozpin said.

Long ago, Pyrrha might have believed him. She might have looked at the situation and thought Alfred was acting panicked and unreasonable, while Ozpin was soothing and calm. Now, all she could see was how Ozpin's hand never left his weapon, how his eyes scanned the twins carefully, how they focused on a spot where Canada was exposed and an attack could theoretically go past America to reach his twin.

Pyrrha stepped in front of Alfred, trusting him to watch her back as she turned it to Ozpin. "I believe it may be best for everyone to calm down before we continue this conversation."

"I agree." Ruby said quickly.

"Yeah. In case you forgot we're kind of stuck right now." Yang added.

Ozpin's eyes narrowed but he inclined his head. "Very well. It would be best for us all to remain in this room for the night. The rest of the temple is dangerous. We can add further fortifications in the morning."

"Are there a bunch of deadly traps here?" Nora asked.

Ozpin said nothing.

"Called it." Nora flounced over to Matthew and crouched next to him and Ren, expression solemn. "Mattie," she said seriously. "Don't eat my brain."

Matthew stared at her, dumbfounded, then chuckled. " _You_  don't have to worry about that, Nora."

"Hey!" Nora pouted.

Yang halted by Ruby and leaned over to whisper in her sister's ear. Pyrrha was just close enough to overhear. "Who wants to stay up and make sure Ozpin doesn't murder Curly in his sleep?"

Ruby and Pyrrha exchanged a heavy glance.

"We'll keep four guards outside, two inside." the younger girl decided loudly. "We can't rely on the shield to keep us safe."

"As long as I am in here, it will not fail." Ozpin informed her.

England sent a glower that could peel paint at the back of his head.

Ozpin settled his hands atop his cane. "Ren, it may be best for you to continue to use your Semblance on Matthew as much as possible. It is likely negative emotions will make the… disease spread further."

"His negativity or ours?" Yang asked.

Ozpin considered her question. "Both."

 _Do you know for certain or are you guessing?_  Pyrrha did not voice the thought.

"Team JNPR will stand guard outside first." Jaune offered.

Pyrrha realized he was also offering to explain the situation to those outside and grimaced.

"France and I will stay in here." England growled, daring any of them to argue.

"I will stand guard as well." Penny added.

"No, Penny." Alfred denied. He lowered his voice. "You need to watch your energy."

Pyrrha's heart missed a beat. Didn't Penny have infinite energy? When had that changed?

"You need to sleep as well." Penny stated. "You are already hours behind and have yet to recover from your exhaustion from the previous weeks of insomnia."

America grumbled but smiled awkwardly at Romano. The Italian huffed and walked over to him, muttering about creepy temples and creepy ruins they were trapped in. Pyrrha wanted to remind him that he had a necklace to return to Earth but the way he touched the chain showed he already recalled. It was not her place to ask.

As everyone gathered into groups to plan or prepare for nightfall, Alfred mumbled a low apology Pyrrha could not help but hear. Romano only rolled his eyes and put his hand on the younger nation's forehead. America relaxed and was out in an instant, breathing softly. As soon as his twin was asleep, Canada turned to England.

"Arthur? What do you think Salem is going to do to him this time? We stopped her again. After last time..." he whispered, voice low and strained.

England was silent a beat too long. "Worry about yourself, Matthew."

Pyrrha did not catch the rest of the conversation as she followed her team outside.

XXXXXXX

Another town burned, and America woke in agony.

He only had enough time to identify the source as the major trading town of Sandybrook before pain lanced through his stomach, just above his left hip bone. Knives stabbed into the spot, tearing his insides up from within. He clenched his teeth so he would not cry out. As he lay there, the pain slowly crawled through his abdomen and to the other side, leaving the entire area on fire. America pressed his lips together, fingers clawing helplessly at his blanket, and he shut his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing.

" _In and out."_  Vale told him, failing to hide her distress.  _"It'll go away eventually. Just breathe. In and out."_

Her words did little to comfort America. Something inside him  _tore_  and he clutched at his stomach, curling up on his left side. He pressed his face into his arm to muffle his gasp, pushing against his stomach in a foolhardy attempt to force the pain out. The pressure only made it grow worse and he curled up tighter, latching onto his forearm and digging his nails into his skin. Focusing on the sharp bite of his nails did little to distract him, and his breath came in soft, pained puffs.

He could see Canada and England nearby, sleeping obliviously as their brother suffered, but he did not have the heart to wake them. Penny was also in sleep mode, and the current guard was too far away to see he was awake. He caught a glimpse of glowing golden eyes, but when he blinked Ozpin's back was to him, making him uncertain he saw them at all. It did not matter. There was nothing anyone could do to dull the pain, so he might as well keep quiet and allow them to rest.

Fire tore through his stomach and he muffled another whimper, breath coming in sharp gasps. A rustle of cloth alerted him and his gaze snapped to Weiss, who was sitting at the edge of the room. Before she could react, America shook his head sharply, silently begging her not to wake anyone. Weiss's expression grew pinched. She moved from her spot near the door and sat next to him. She grasped his hand, holding it tightly.

America tried to smile but could only manage a grimace. A particularly sharp pain lanced through his abdomen and he bit his tongue. His vision hazed and when it cleared, Blake was there as well, eyes round with panic. America distantly noticed the light she held, and realized his blanket had been removed and his shirt pulled up to expose his stomach.

_Don't look._

_Don't look._

_Don't—_

America looked. He turned his head away and forced himself to swallow.

"Jaune." he croaked.

Blake nodded sharply and rushed out of the room, sock-clad feet padding softly on the stone floor. She returned an instant later with Jaune at her side, his hands already glowing. He took one look at America's abdomen and gently placed his hands on the bruised flesh. America's teeth chattered as Jaune's Aura coated his stomach and he squeezed Weiss's hand. He heard murmuring and comprehended that she was whispering to herself.

"Please don't die. Don't die. Don't die."

America went to reassure her but something inside him  **burned**  and  **tore**  and his vision went white.

When he regained consciousness, it was to England's swearing and Canada's sobs. His eyes fluttered and he realized his head was in someone's lap as they stroked his hair. He also realized he was laying in something warm and sticky. For an embarrassing moment he thought he had lost control of his bladder.

America opened his eyes and decided that would be better than the pool of blood he found himself in. He noted the glow of Jaune's Semblance and fought against the instincts that screamed at him to force the Aura away. Instead he blinked and noticed England was holding him, while Ren held Canada from behind. At first America thought Ren was holding his twin back, but he saw the breath flickers of the ninja's Semblance and the unnatural calmness on Canada's tear-stained face and realized that was not the case.

He forced his aching mouth to move. "Sorry."

England's expression grew stiff. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Woke you up." America mumbled.

His limbs felt heavy, and his body felt  _wrong_. He tried to touch his stomach, only for something warm to prevent his arm from moving. He still had a death grip on Weiss's hand. 'Death grip.' Ha.

" _Alfred."_  Vale sounded nauseous as she spoke his name.  _"I think part of your insides are gone."_

America frowned dizzily. "Part of my insides are gone?"

England uttered a curse and stood up.

"Bring him to the circle." he snapped at Jaune.

The knight picked America up and carried him over. America noticed Weiss following and realized he was still hanging onto her. He should let her go. Jaune set America in the circle and Weiss crouched beside him. He blinked at her.

"Alfred, you need to release Weiss for me to perform the scan." England said.

America looked at their hands. Her hand was very warm. Was his skin very cold then? He felt cold. And tired. Hands that were even warmer than Weiss's gently grabbed his and Ruby carefully separated their fingers. America saw Weiss flex her fingers, expression slightly pained and his heart twinged with remorse.

"Sorry I murdered your fingers." he mumbled.

"They're fine." Weiss claimed.

She backed away from the circle and England began to mutter. The light that glowed was tinged pink this time, as was the three-dimensional image that appeared above America.

Would you look at that? One of his kidneys  _and_  a chunk of his liver were missing.

" _I think part of your stomach and intestines were gone too but Jaune saved them."_  Vale said hauntingly.

No wonder he felt so wrong and it hurt so much.

It hurt so much he almost had to giggle so he would not scream.

"Salem's a petty  _bitch_." Nora snarled before America could give in to his impulses.

He felt his lips twitch. "Mhmmmmmmm."

"Jaune, keep him awake." England ordered. "The rest of you, go watch the bloody Grimm."

America felt Jaune's hands move and the Aura coated more of his body, creeping up his torso and down his legs. Even worse, he felt it  _inside_  him, slipping through the area that had been damaged as it manipulated his own Aura. His breath hitched and he tried to shove Jaune's hands away.

"Stop it." he pleaded. "I don't wanna die yet."

He felt a tremor go through Jaune's hands. "You're  _not_  going to die."

America did not have the heart to correct him. Rather than clear, his thoughts grew fuzzy and he shut his good eye, ignoring England's curses and demands to stay awake. He heard his brother give up on him and break something that sounded like stone.

"Angleterre, calm—"

"Don't you tell me to  _calm down!_ " England thundered, nearly snapping America out of his daze. "We can't keep doing this. We  _can't_  let this keep happening!"

France was silent long enough that America lost his halfhearted fight with unconsciousness. As he slipped into the darkness, he heard France finally reply.

"You know we cannot stop this, Angleterre. As long as Salem can keep attacking the Kingdom of Vale in ways that won't kill America, she can hurt him, and we can't do a thing to stop her _. We can't protect him._ "

America wished France did not sound so shocked or defeated when he said that. It was not a surprise at all.

America had always known.

XXXXXXX

It was late at night when China woke. At first he did not know what drew him from sleep, but then a twinge of pain went through his back. He groaned and rubbed the spot, grumbling lowly. Stupid aches. He was too old for them.

No, he was  _not_  old, no matter what Hong Kong claimed. He was still very young and spry and— and  _hip!_  Hip was the word, yes? Of course it was. China was very knowledgeable in current young people lingo.

He must have slept wrong on the stupid bed in America's guest room. It must be the shoddy workmanship of the bed. Where was it made? China?

_Cheapskate American…_

China failed to realize he had just insulted himself and rose from his uncomfortable, back-ache-causing bed and hobbled downstairs. Some nice tea would help soothe the stiffness in his back and joints. He would make a nice snack as well but many of the nations were light sleepers. China did not care about waking them, but he was not in the mood for company at the moment. All he wanted was a nice cup of warm, soothing tea with no annoyances to bother him or tease him about his back.

Yawning, he turned on the kitchen light.

A woman sat at America's kitchen table, as out of place as a shark in a field of flowers. Her hair was white and her skin was just as pale, almost ghostly when placed against the black fabric of her dress. The hands that were clasped elegantly upon the tabletop were sketched with black veins, and the eyes that looked at China were as red as blood, with sclera darker than the deepest of shadows.

The 'woman' studied China not with hostility, but the distant curiosity of a predator whose prey had done an odd trick before collapsing. China knew he had to speak, to do  _something_  before she did, so he forced himself to swallow.

"You are Salem."

"Yes."

It only took a single word for China's fingertips to feel cold. He dare not let it consume him further. Salem's eyes were blood red, but he could compare them to Prussia's. Her skin was an eerie white, but it was not much lighter than Russia's. Her veins could almost be mistaken for tattoos in the dull light of the lonely, flickering light-bulb. China thought this, and  _made_  it his reality so he could breathe.

"Would you like some tea or snacks?" he asked politely.

An elegant eyebrow rose as the only sign of her surprise. Or perhaps, more accurately, her disbelief. "That is your response to me? I cannot decide whether you are brave or foolish."

"You arrived unannounced, but you have not yet attacked. It would be rude to deny a guest refreshments, aru."

Salem was  _not_  a guest by any stretch of the word. She was an invader and enemy. But China did not let him think that. He did not allow himself to think of the alternatives to her being a  _guest_. Because if Grimm were attracted to terror and fear, who knew how its presence would affect Salem?

Salem's head tipped, and the bangles weaved through her hair jangled. "Foolishly brave it is." She gestured vaguely at the kitchen. "Please, do not let my presence interrupt you."

"It is no trouble, but thank you."

China walked into the kitchen and went past her to the stove. Everyone he knew— or everyone in general— would scream at him for turning his back on an enemy, but this was not an enemy. This was a guest. A simple  _guest_ , and nothing more. There was  _nothing to fear_. China got the tea pot out and the leaves, and began boiling the water. He felt Salem's eyes on him as he pulled out two cups and set one in front of her.

"It would be rude to drink some without you." he told his  _guest_.

Salem considered the glass, then him. "Is that a custom from your country?"

"Yes." China said. "All guests are to be treated with great respect and kindness."

"Intriguing." Salem murmured, and China could not say whether it was genuine. She picked up the cup and studied it, tracing a flower on the rim. "I have seen many parts of this world through my Grimm. They are quite diverse."

China inclined his head in polite agreement. "Indeed. There are many different cultures and ways of life on Earth. Even I have not had the time to learn of them all."

"You have no magic, Aura, or Semblances yet you still evolved, in some ways past the advancements of Remnant." Salem hummed vaguely. "A world without Ozpin can truly prosper."

China did not point out that Earth did have some magic, and also prospered because there were no Grimm. "I have heard of that meddling, foolish man. I do not like him."

Red eyes locked onto him and burned with too much hatred for him to pretend otherwise. "We have something in common, then."

China could not look away from her burning red gaze, and he knew if he stared long enough the inferno would drive him mad. The tea kettle whistled and he broke away and busied himself with it. This was the type of scene Hong Kong would scoff at if China told him of it. Here China was, making tea and holding a conversation with the Queen of the Gri—  _a guest_. His hands did not shake as he poured the water and silently lamented leaving his weapons in his room. Not that they might make much of a difference.

"I have never had the displeasure of meeting him, but I've known his type." China said as he placed the leaves. "Men who think they know what is best for the majority, and will let the little people be trampled under their feet."

He could feel her gaze on his back. "What happened to those type of men?"

China picked up the steaming cups and set them down in front of her. "They died. Often they were killed by their own men who realized they were only pawns."

Salem inclined her head in thanks and picked up the mug, holding it in her hands. "Ozpin knows that fate first-hand." Her lip curled. "It is a pity those deaths did not stick."

China's fingers curled around his cup. "A pity."

Salem's eyes flicked up to him while the rest of her remained still. It was at that moment that China realized her chest did not move with breath, and no pulse was visible in her pale white throat. "Even after all those mistakes, Ozpin never learned. He repeats them over and over, because the greatest consequence for him is moving to a new body while he leaves thousands of corpses in his wake."

 _How many of those corpses died by your hand?_  China thought but did not say. "May I ask how are you here? The journey was—"

"Meant to be impossible?" Salem finished. She smiled in a way that may look beautiful on someone who was not the Queen of the Grimm. "There are some things even your shield cannot block."

China's mouth was dry. "Why have you come to visit?"

"Curiosity." Salem said. "As I previously stated, this world has prospered much without Ozpin shaping it in his favor."

China nodded politely. "I see. Why are you truly here?"

Salem's lips twitched in amusement at his bluntness. "To send a message."

The words barely left her mouth before China was moving. The teacup shattered on the kitchen floor as he sprang back, scarcely evading the shadows that tried to grab him. He smacked into the wall, groping blindly, and yanked the fire alarm. A high-pitched shriek filled the air and China heard the grunts and footsteps of his fellow nations.

Salem was unperturbed. She sat elegantly at the table, as regal as a fairy-tale princess and as dark as an evil queen. She rose gracefully, gliding upward more than standing, and she studied the red fire alarm with that dissonant and curious expression. A smile danced across her pale lips.

Salem's form rippled, and a Phoenix Grimm took her place. The bird exploded into flames, and fire tore across the kitchen like a shock-wave. China screamed and covered his face with his arms, while the wooden table in front of him caught fire in an instant. Smoke filled the air and the sprinklers turned on, drenching China and holding the heat of the flames at bay. In the distance, he heard Germany's shout.

"Out! Everyone  _OUT!_ "

Salem's arm transformed. China ducked and the Nuckelavee claws raked the wall behind him. They dug deep gouges into the plaster with a thunderous crunching sound, drawing the attention of a few passing nations. Denmark swore and swung his axe at Salem but she caught it by the blade, grabbing his arm and throwing him into the wall. He hit the pans hanging over the stove and fell to the ground as they crashed to the floor around him. Denmark pushed himself up and grunted, putting a hand to his head. He froze in place, gaping at his hand, and China saw black veins creeping up his arm.

"Oh God." Poland croaked, frozen in the doorway.

Denmark's expression went blank and he locked eyes with China. The ancient nation moved before he could hesitate. He grabbed Denmark's axe, lifted it over his head, and swung. Denmark's scream was piercing even over the crackling of the fire. The hair on China's nape rose and he ducked, covering Denmark as the Salem slashed the wall. Her arm shrank to its normal size but her eyes locked onto Poland, who stood pale and unmoving in the doorway.

China forced his voice to work. " _MOVE!_ "

Poland jolted to the side and the Nuckelavee claws clipped off a piece of his hair. Rather than dive to safety, Poland smacked into the door frame and faltered. Salem's clawed hand locked around his shoulder but he yanked himself free, tearing his shirt in the process. Physical darkness grabbed him and Poland hit the wall with a pained cry. A clawed hand touched his chin, each nail as sharp as a dagger, and Poland leaned his head back, eyes wide with terror. China heard the clatter of hooves.

Something slammed into Salem's side and she staggered, grunting and clutching at her stomach. She stepped to the side, and danced backwards eyes narrowed in annoyance as they tracked something China could not see. Without warning, Salem's hand snapped out and latched onto something invisible. Her hand moved slightly, like something was thrashing in her grasp, and she inspected the seemingly empty air curiously.

"What a beautiful creature." she murmured.

Her hand clenched.

China saw nothing, but heard the  **crunch**  of snapping bone. Salem calmly reached above her hand and grasped something, breaking it with another sickening  **crack**. She opened her hand and something hit the floor with an audible thud, sending specks of dust into the air.

" _UNI!_ " Poland screamed.

He grabbed a pan and threw it at Salem with a scream. It clipped her hair but she barely spared him a glance, flicking him away with a dismissive backhand. Poland stumbled to his feet, tears dripping down his cheeks and lunged for her again.

China's heart leaped into his throat. "Pol—"

" _Stop_."

The voice was familiar, but the tone was colder than the deepest north. Poland jerked to a halt like he had hit a solid wall, and maybe he had. Norway stepped between him and the Queen of the Grimm, dressed in his sleepwear and with his hair in disarray. His expression was blank, his eyes brimming with tears as his hands glowed violet.

Salem's cold red eyes flickered with recognition. "Ah. You are one of the supposedly magical ones. Nor—"

Norway's hand slashed the air and he blasted Salem through five walls. Her body hit the floor, cracking it into a spiderweb, and she did not rise. Her form flickered, becoming a Beowolf before it faded into ash. China almost had to laugh at how quickly he destroyed the Queen of the Grimm's borrowed body, but his laughter died in his throat when Poland crouched on the dirty floor with a wail.

"Uni..."

China forced himself to turn away from the sobbing nation. He hastily wrapped Denmark's bleeding stump, lips pressed thin.

"China." Denmark's skin was ashen from blood-loss, his hair drenched from the sprinklers, but his smile was bright. "Thanks for the quick save."

China swallowed roughly and reminded himself that Denmark's forearm would regenerate. "You are welcome."

He supported Denmark and helped him out of the burning mansion while Norway and the still-sobbing Poland carried Uni between them. They laid their charges on the grass outside and Norway instantly began drawing in the Earth, muttering to himself.

"Romania!" he called.

The brown-haired nation spotted him and his eyes went wide. He raced over. "What happened? The fire—"

"Salem paid us a visit." China interrupted.

The nations of the Taskforce stared at him, expressions varying from fear to shock to anger. Only Tony's face was expressionless as he watched his home burn. Lithuania stumbled out the door, coughing. In his arms was a box that he clutched to his chest. He collapsed in a heap but refused to release his burden. Unreasonably, China's anger found a target in him.

"What are you doing?" he snapped. "The house is on fire and you decided to  _grab_  something?"

Lithuania coughed painfully, rubbing at his throat. "It's— Important. Has— his old things."

China's anger fizzled out. He knew firsthand the value of mementos from times long ago, and the heartbreak of losing those reminders of the past.

"What do you mean, Salem was  _here_?" Germany interjected harshly.

"Exactly what I said. Salem possessed one of her Grimm to pay us a visit." The nations around him shouted questions, but China was the calm in the storm. None of their emotions could touch him, not even his own. "She set America's mansion on fire and attempted to infect Denmark with some type of Grimm."

"Don't worry. China cut it off quickly enough." Denmark reassured them weakly. He was leaning against Sweden's side, skin as pale as snow. "Just like a zombie infection..."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Germany demanded.

China forced himself not to look at Norway. "Uni protected Poland."

Germany's face went slack. Poland's sobs started anew and China shut his eyes, bracing himself. The blond-haired nation wiped at his face, not caring about the grime on his hands or hair.

"She's alive." he hiccuped.

"Her horn is broken." Norway whispered before China's heart could soar. "I can't fix that. Maybe England could but..."

Poland lowered his head into his hands.

China swallowed the boiling grief and rage that wished to consume him. It was clear that despite her seemingly polite disposition, Salem  _was_  truly a monster. For all her talk of a world without Ozpin prospering, she was perfectly content to ruin it herself. She went out of her way to attack them, even though they should be no threat to her if she truly only despised Ozpin. Instead of sticking to Remnant, she came to Earth, not to negotiate or threaten, but to simply ' _send a message_ '.

As flames devoured part of America's mansion, China hoped he could not feel the loss.

Liechtenstein looked around worriedly. "Where's everyone else? The ones who were guarding the soldier—"

"Will be fine." Lithuania croaked, voice strained from inhaling smoke. "The sprinkler system will put it out before it gets far. Only a couple rooms will be affected."

Despite Lithuania's choked assurances, it was difficult to watch the smoke billow from the kitchen and surrounding rooms as orange flames flickered inside. The sprinklers did their job before the fire got far, leaving a small but blatant section of the house blackened and charred. There would be little structural damage, and the mansion could be repaired in a day or two.

But the message was clear, and China would not stand for it.

If Salem thought she could pop in and attack them without consequences, she was sorely mistaken.

XXXXXXX

The fire consuming Tony's home went out not with a bang, but with a pathetic whimper. He watched the black smoke become wisps of grey, following the trails of black grime the flames had carved into the mansion. None of the nations dared to enter the structure just yet. Instead they dithered on the lawn or huddled into groups. Tony stepped beside China, who seemed ignorant to the blood covering his sleeves.

"China."

He jumped, visibly startled, and gripped Denmark's axe defensively. He did a double-take, staring at the weapon as if he had forgotten it was there, before finally looking at Tony. "Yes, alien?"

"The Queen of the Grimm did this?" Tony asked.

China's brown eyes clouded and he nodded.

"Why?"

"To send a message."

Tony nodded silently, and acknowledged the white star super-heating his veins. He looked away from the mansion to the nations known as Poland, Norway, and Romania. They all sat in a circle, with Poland petting what to many would be thin air, but Tony could see Uni clearly. He could see what many of the nations could not. Her head lay on Poland's lap, her eyes closed with exhaustion, and her flank heaved slightly, quivering with shock or pain. Uni's horn was broken, just like her neck had been. It was lucky that unicorns were much hardier than many species and Norway had time to save her.

This 'Queen of the Grimm' had hurt Tony's companion.

She had invaded and burned America's home.

She had likely done it to cause Tony's friend pain.

America had welcomed Tony to Earth. He invited him into his home when he had nowhere to go. They celebrated his holidays and birthdays together. They invented and created together. They were— as America put it— 'roommates' and 'besties', living together in this house. Before coming to Earth, Tony did not have a family. He did not have friends. He did not even have a home other than his space ship. America gave him all those things.

And this 'Salem' sought to destroy it.

She tried to destroy it to send a message.

Message received.

Tony was an inventor, scientist, and engineer, but part of his skill set was…  _elsewhere_. Or perhaps, it could be considered 'more specific'. The closest Earth occupation would be 'bio-science', though America would call it 'mad scientist with the ingredients for take-over-the-worldness.' Tony rarely dabbled in experiments with living specimen anymore— America put his foot down after there were one too many cow-kidnappings and a group of freaked-out farmers— but the urge to experiment, to learn, to know, to create, to  _destroy_  just because he could was always there.

America usually curbed those more destructive desires by encouraging him to build things that could benefit rather than harm. Tony was more logical than emotional by nature, yet he could not deny the warmth he felt when America beamed at him and squealed excitedly over the latest invention Tony had built. None of those inventions had been touched by the fire. They were safe, down in his lab and spaceship with all his equipment.

Including some equipment America suspected he had, but quietly asked him not to use. He had explained that although things like mosquitoes and flies were irritating, they were an essential part of Earth's delicate ecosystem, and creating a bio-weapon to exterminate them all could irreparably mess up the environment. America may try to create a superhero to fight Global Warming, but he was no fool when it came to weapons and bio-weapons were no game.

So although Tony sometimes considered making a virus to kill mosquitoes, or flies, or entire nations if they hurt America, he never did. His equipment remained locked away on his ship. He had not used them in decades because he had no one he needed to target.

He did now.

The Grimm.

For the first time in a long time, Tony faced a species that threatened his home. A singular species, with their own biology and an unnaturally destructive nature that classified them as a non-sentient parasite. They were not essential to an ecosystem's food chain. They did not perform population control. In fact, they threatened the careful balance of Earth, not only for humanity but the world as a whole.

America's home.

And Tony's home, too.

Just this once, America would appreciate it if Tony could exterminate the parasitic, invasive species that had been planted on his world.

Tony knew what he needed to do.

He just needed a specimen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this chapter should be called "Salem is Petty AF Part Two (And Tony Gets Pissed.)"
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: I should have said this earlier (I swear I did but I might've forgotten) but please don't put spoilers for the most recent chapters of Volume 6 (as in episodes that are only available to First members) in reviews. I don't have a First account at the moment (sobs) so I'm a week behind the First people. I got something from Chapter 10 spoiled for me in a review just before posting this and I'm a bit annoyed. (Guys, Chapter 10 has been out for what, two hours? Are you for real?) It was a guest review on Fanfiction.net so I deleted it. Don't do that, please.
> 
> See you Monday!


	25. Alfred Jones and the Seven Sacrifices

A few of America's agents arrived at the mansion the next morning. They pulled up in black SUVs, wearing black suits and sunglasses with communication devices in their ears.

Germany met them in the front lawn. His room had been untouched by the fire so he was able to retrieve proper attire for the meeting. Korea had joked that going in his pajamas might put the agents at ease but Germany knew even a troupe of clowns would not make them relax.

Not only had Salem appeared on Earth and infiltrated AGATE's base— America's home— but she had attempted to infect Denmark with an unknown Grimm substance. His lost arm had apparently been burned in the flames, leaving them with no samples to study. Germany deeply wished that was not the case so they could at least try to figure out their enemy's intentions. Humans may think it morbid, but Denmark had already regenerated, thankfully with no black marks in sight.

So now Germany walked up to the frowning, tense agents whose fingers itched to retrieve their guns. He focused on the man in the front of the group, whose ID identified him as an agent of the Secret Service.

"Agent Tarleton." he greeted.

"Germany." Agent Jasper Tarleton replied. His blue eyes scanned the burnt siding of the mansion and he grimaced. "What do you know?"

"Salem became a Beowolf some distance from here and walked onto the property. Apparently she does not have a heartbeat or heat signature— at least not while possessing a Grimm— so Tony's sensors did not catch her. He is adjusting them accordingly."

The alien did not seem particularly bothered by recent events. He had vanished into his lab the moment it was safe to go back in and had not been seen since.

"Good." Tarleton said. He gestured to his agents and they spread out. "We have a team that'll be by to fix the place up. This isn't the first time it has almost burned down." His eyebrow rose. "I'd appreciate it if you did not incinerate the place while America is away."

Germany winced. "If you want us to find alternate lodgings we will."

"No." Tarleton interjected quickly. "No, that's not necessary. America would want you to stay here."

"Have you worked with him long?" Germany asked curiously.

Tarleton's expression softened slightly. "Almost twenty years now." His sight trailed over the blackened wall and he scowled. "Those sons of bitches. First they kidnap him, then they take his memory, and now they tried to take his home—" He seemed to recall who he was talking to and shook himself. "America doesn't deserve this."

Germany did not know what to say. He had to wonder how close this man was to America. He supposed that came with working with the nation for decades.

"Sir." An agent walked up to Tarleton. "A couple nations are standing guard outside a sealed room. They won't let us in."

Tarleton frowned questioningly at Germany.

Germany kept his expression blank. "There are cameras you can look through right next to the guards."

He pulled out his phone and brought up the feed of the makeshift cell. Denmark sat casually on the bed with Finland hovering close. As if he sensed he was being watched, he looked at the camera and waved with his good arm. His left arm was still regenerating, wrapped up in gauze.

"We created that room in case there happened to be a type of Grimm parasite." Germany explained. "Our paranoia paid off. Denmark was almost infected but China removed his limb before it could spread. We're keeping him in there until we're sure he's not a danger."

"I see." Tarleton nodded slowly and shot the agent a disapproving look. "Agent, please do not make me send you back to observance training."

The agent's ears reddened. "Yes, sir."

As he hurried away, Germany breathed a mental sigh of relief that the others thought to hide the soldier before the agents arrived. The soldier was one secret the government could not learn about yet. He hesitated and lowered his voice.

"Agent, since we are face to face, I have a request to make."

The agent's expression smoothed out and he raised an eyebrow.

Germany took his silence as an urge to continue. "Something new has come up. We need to meet with the President. We think the previous portals were not the first to bring natives of Remnant here." He kept it purposely vague, carefully studying the agent's expression.

The tension in his jaw suggested the man could read between the lines. Germany wondered how much he already knew about the unwanted visitors. "Agent Aster!"

Another agent looked up and jogged over to them. Germany took in blond hair and bright blue eyes and was starkly reminded of America. Despite himself, he found himself relaxing. It was probably the resemblance or the fact they were  _finally_  getting somewhere with the government but he found the agent's presence almost calming.

"Agent John Aster is my second-in-command." Tarleton explained briefly. When the agent halted in front of them, he turned to him. "Set up a meeting between AGATE and the President. Covertly."

The new Secret Service agent stiffened and he glanced at Germany suspiciously. "Why, sir?"

Germany kept his voice low. "We've discovered delicate information. The President needs to be informed." The implication that he could not say more lay heavy in the air.

Agent Aster hesitated visibly, but nodded. "Very well. I will set up a meeting."

XXXXXXX

America woke crying and had no idea why.

He hastily wiped a tear away and sat up, wincing as his stomach twinged. He recalled the events of last night and grimaced, but filed his own health worries away in favor of checking on Canada. His brother was wide awake. Purple shadows decorated his bloodshot, sunken violet eyes, and he stared at America with a distinctly haunted expression. Ren lay on Canada's other side, hand on his shoulder, and although he did not look as bedraggled as America's twin, his lips were pressed thin.

Violet and an exposed blue eye locked.

"How are you feeling?" They chorused.

America cracked a grin. "Jinx. We did the twin thing, Mattie. You owe me a soda."

Canada smiled weakly.

"Aren't you going to get up?" America asked, prodding him with his foot.

Canada smacked his ankle. "Give me a sec."

America smirked at him and turned to Penny. He touched her arm and her eyes snapped open. The normally vibrant green of her irises were dull, almost grey. America froze and held his breath as the color slowly returned to her eyes. She glanced left and right and sat up with a frown.

"I did not intend to go into sleep mode."

America grimaced. "I told you, you need your rest."

Penny nodded reluctantly. "My energy is being drained. I cannot locate the source of the issue." she paused and lowered her voice. "Have I informed you of this development before? I cannot locate the information in my databanks."

America's mouth went dry. "Um."

"Please discard that previous query as it is no longer relevant. I have located the memory files." Penny reported abruptly. She frowned at America. "Have your absent internal organs regenerated?"

America knew the answer without needing a spell. He pressed a hand to his side and winced. "No. How will this affect me?"

Penny's fingers twitched, revealing her distress. "You may suffer no side effects. Or you may experience breathing difficulties, heart attacks, or blood clots."

"Yay." America said sarcastically, ignoring his nausea.

He sat next to Canada and leaned against his brother's shoulder. Canada twitched but did not pull away. His every tense muscle screamed that he wanted to. America risked a glance at Canada's covered chest and his nausea returned tenfold. Before he could speak, Nora hurried through the entrance of the temple, but her weapon was at her back.

"Hey. Salem's creeps are lurking creepily." Nora reported. "They still can't get in."

"And they won't be able to." Ozpin assured them again. "I have more than enough power here to keep them at bay."

"How?" England asked suspiciously.

Ozpin paused but apparently got over his misgivings and answered surprisingly quickly. "This temple is built over one of the few remaining magic nexuses on Remnant."

"What's a magic nexus?" Ruby whispered to Weiss, who shrugged.

Nobody answered her, though England's eyebrows nearly met his hairline. "A  _magic_   _nexus_?" He raised his staff and frowned. "I cannot seem to access it."

"What do you mean?" Yang asked. "You did a spell yesterday."

"What's a magic nexus?" Ruby asked again, louder this time.

England took pity on her. "A magic nexus is a place saturated in powerful, concentrated magical energy." He paused, thinking how to explain. "Think of it as such: Instead of a thin mist of magic floating in the atmosphere, the magic gathers together in a concentrated lake or pool."

The description was enough for Ruby, for her eye went wide. "Whoa."

"So what was that about not being able to access it?" Yang repeated.

England's scowled at his staff. "I pulled no more magic from the atmosphere than usual. If this is a nexus, I should have much more power at my disposal."

"Not in this instance." Ozpin said. "Not now. As I said, these ruins are attuned to me. The nexus is as well."

The horrified look that flashed over England's face suggested that statement was a  _lot_  more important than America understood. England covered his alarm with is usual unimpressed stuffiness. "Hmph."

Golden eyes landed on America. "Speaking of the temple... Alfred, you and I need to deactivate some of the more dangerous defenses scattered throughout the ruins."

"Why?" Yang asked sharply.

"Because he has Vale's Aura." Ozpin explained patiently. "We created this place together long ago. Now only he and I can move through this temple without fear."

Vale shifted uneasily. Canada twitched and glanced sharply at America. His nostrils flared and his brow furrowed.

"Oh, isn't that  _convenient_." England snarled.

Ozpin ignored him. "I'm afraid that the energies will also interfere with most technology. Ms. Penny should remain functional but it may be best to leave your Scrolls here unless you want them to be corrupted. How do I explain this?" He closed his eyes and paused to think. "Ah, I know. It is like what happens when certain electrical devices are left too close to a magnet."

"I could probably fix it." America mentioned.

"But you'd have to  _be there_  to make our Scrolls work. If you're not around they'd be useless." Weiss pointed out.

America nearly smacked his forehead. "Duh. You're right."

" _Don't go."_  Vale blurted.

America hesitated.  _Is Ozpin telling the truth about the traps?_

There was a pause. Was she thinking about what she wanted to say, or was the curse that kept her silent acting up? _"There are traps."_

_Then why shouldn't I go?_

Silence. America knew what that meant by now.  _What can you tell me?_

" _Not much. I have not been here since I was very young. The memory is fuzzy and I can't—"_

"Alfred?"

America jumped and instinctively stepped away from Ozpin. He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I was just thinking about my track record of going places alone."

Ozpin frowned. "I will be with you."

America chuckled. "No offense to your strength and powers, Wizard Dude, but I think you underestimate how much of a trouble magnet I am."

"Indeed." Penny said. "Alfred F. Jones's rate of finding trouble has risen to seventy-nine percent, which is why I will be accompanying you on this mission."

"I'll go as well." Pyrrha offered before America could protest.

Ozpin's lips thinned. "That is not wise. The more people there are, the more likely one of the traps will be accidentally activated."

An idea struck America.  _Are they metal?_

" _Yes, there are metal traps."_  Vale said quickly, like she feared the words could be taken from her at any moment.

"Vale says some of the traps are metal." America reported. "Pyrrha can probably hold them back if there's an accident."

Penny's eyes narrowed. "I am accompanying you." she repeated. "I too will find ways to 'hold back' traps if they activate." Her weapons clicked, daring anyone to argue.

A heavy weight seemed to settle on Ozpin's shoulders and he sighed. "Very well."

"I'll come as well." England said, rising.

America felt his skin tingle. England stopped in place. He blinked twice, and for a moment America thought his eyes were glazed. England blinked again and his green irises were back to normal.

"Mister Kirkland, I think it might be better that you remain here with Matthew." Ozpin said. "I fear the magical energies could target him while we proceed with the deactivation sequences."

America had no idea what he meant, but apparently it was not complete malarkey because England had that pinched look on his face that he got when someone was right and he did not want to admit it. His green eyes flicked to Canada and America saw the bracing stiffness of his twin's shoulders. Canada was going to insist that England go with them out of some stupid self-sacrificial "I'm-less-important-than-you" crap. America ignored Vale's comment about hypocritical pots and kettles and nudged his older brother in the side.

"Arthur,  _relax_. Watch over Mattie. I'll be—" He reconsidered his words. "You know what? I'm not going to say it."

England huffed and abruptly pulled him into a hug. America flinched but relaxed, a gentle tease on the tip of his tongue. Any thoughts of joking about his brother's uncharacteristic softness were discarded when England whispered in his ear.

"Ozpin is stronger than me in here. Be wary."

America swallowed and nodded with a painted-on grin. "Yes,  _mom_. I promise not to wander off and fall into a spike pit."

England cuffed him lightly. "Git." He twitched and put a hand to his head.

America frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." England lowered his hand. "The nexus is giving me a headache."

"Alfred." Ozpin interrupted. As he called America's name, he did not look at him, but out into the shadowy hall at the edge of their room. "We should begin. The traps become stronger with the rising sun."

Vale grunted.

America made a face. "Sounds fun."

He handed his Scroll to England, waved to Canada, and jogged over to Ozpin with Penny at his shoulder. Pyrrha kissed Jaune briefly, giving him her own Scroll, and followed, weapon in hand.

"We shall begin with the one in the main chamber." Ozpin said.

His hand flicked and the hallway lit up, illuminated by lamps that emitted a familiar green glow. America repressed a shudder. The hallway was creepily similar to the one in Vale's vault, only instead of marble, the ruins were made from weathered stone. The green-flamed lamps were the same, however. As were the endless shadows that plunged everything into near-darkness.

America's skin tingled, like he was standing too close to a lightning storm. He rubbed his arms as he walked and glanced around uncomfortably. "There's some type of magic in here, isn't there?  _Other_  than the natural nexus, I mean."

"Indeed." Ozpin confirmed.

"What kind?"

Ozpin hesitated. "Mine. As I previously said."

There was something he was  _not_  saying. It was as obvious as blood on snow. America shifted uncomfortably and glanced nervously at the walls. Pyrrha looked unsettled as well though she tried to hide it.

_We can't go on like this,_  America realized.  _This mistrust has festered too long and it could get us_ _ **killed**_ _at this point._

" _Don't do it."_ Vale whispered, realizing what he was thinking.

Despite her plea, America's mind was made up. They had danced around the subject for too long, and it was beyond the point of sanity. He knew what he had to do: They  _had_  to confront Ozpin directly.

"Penny, Pyrrha?" he whispered their names and waited until they looked at him. "Watch my back."

He could see the question on Pyrrha's tongue before she realized what he was not saying. The two girls exchanged a glance before nodding silently. America smiled at their trust in him.

The smile vanished when they entered the main chamber. Like the rest of the temple, its stone walls were lined with the lamps with green flames. It did not have a single window or crack, blocking out even the slightest bit of natural light.

In the center of the room was a large stone altar. Runes covered its surface, written in a language America did not recognize. America could not spot any traps so he cautiously approached the altar, frowning at the strange basin below it. Was it supposed to catch water or something? But there were not any holes in the ceiling…

A glint of light caught his eye. Beside the altar, sitting in an elegantly-carved rack created just for it, was a knife. It was long and thin, almost graceful in its design, with odd runes carved into the blade. America could almost see someone like Weiss or Winter wielding it. Yet deep down, he knew they would never touch it. He studied the dagger and saw how it glinted in the harsh light cast by the flames. It shone brightly,  _unnaturally,_  as sharp and deadly as the day it was forged despite the years that passed since this temple was last used.

The dagger was not a blade meant for combat, but a very specific ritual.

America could feel Ozpin's gaze on his back.

He put two and two together, and his veins turned to ice. "We don't need to deactivate any traps."

Pyrrha tensed.

Penny's weapons shifted.

Ozpin was silent. His gaze stayed on America's back.

America swallowed hard. He turned so he could just see Ozpin out of the corner of his right eye, losing sight of the altar in exchange.

"People were sacrificed here, weren't they?"

Vale shuddered.

Ozpin avoided looking at the altar. "Yes." He emanated guilt like a cloak.

Realization was slow to dawn, and America desperately wished it had never come. "They were sacrificed for  _you_."

Pyrrha gasped.

Ozpin flinched. His knuckles turned white. "The locals believed human sacrifices would increase my power."

"Did it?" America asked distantly. A part of him was screaming at him to run, but his thoughts had locked down, refusing to let him understand what was going on.

Ozpin's borrowed brown bangs covered his eyes. "...Yes. You… You need to understand, this was a different time. A  _darker_  time, when the Kingdoms had barely formed. Humanity was weak. The people were desperate.  _I_  was desperate. But… it worked." His fingers clenched around his cane. "I regained enough magical abilities to permanently protect this place from the Grimm. However, that protection proved to be useless against threats not linked to Salem. It  _worked_  until they turned on each other. It was one of the few times I was strong enough to withstand her."

America heard it then. The  _way_  Ozpin spoke. With sorrow, with remorse… but with an undeniable undercurrent of  _steel_. It was the voice of someone filled with regret for something they were about to do, but knew they had no other choice.

Vale started sobbing. Other small sounds came from her, but it was as if she were trying to speak around a gag. America's heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings.

"This is what you were talking about when you mentioned 'immoral' methods to regain your powers." he comprehended.

"Yes." Ozpin confirmed, like he was bracing himself for something.

America knew what that 'something' was. Oh, how he wished he was ignorant. He wished he could say he expected this. He wished he had trusted his gut sooner. His hand hovered over the altar, not quite touching it and he took a shuddering breath.

"So." he whispered. "Should I just lay down on the altar or do you want to give me your prepared speech first?"

Pyrrha and Penny froze in place.

Ozpin went still. "Excuse me?" It was almost funny how genuine his surprise sounded.

America traced a rune on the sacrificial altar. "You were awake last night."

Ozpin did not have to ask him when. "Yes. I was."

America hummed and shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring the click of Penny's weapons. "Were you hoping I'd die?"

"Of course not."

America smiled bitterly. " _Of course not_. Because if I died then  _no one_  could get the Relic of Choice. Silly me."  _And if I died, you wouldn't be able to—_  He turned around and leaned casually against the altar. "But then again, if Salem gets Choice you lose. So I think you're lying  _again_."

"You think I want you dead?" America wished he could say that Ozpin's hurt expression was real. "Do you think so little of me?"

America shrugged. "I guess so. Fact is, you'd rather have me die than let Salem get Choice. In case you've forgotten, we're kind of trapped in here by her right now."

The pieces were coming together. He could feel Vale's terror. He could feel his heart beating, quick and frantic in sharp contrast to his facade of calm.

_Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum._

"I'd never stand by and allow you to—"

"After all, it was always an acceptable sacrifice if I died, as long as Vale's Aura was kept away from Cinder."

That shut Ozpin up.

America could not find the pettiness to preen in his minor victory. Instead he just felt tired and drained. "You know, I think you scare me more than Salem. It's because I don't know what you'll do. You could help me to 'save everyone', or you could hurt me to do the same. At least with her I  _know_  she'll stab me in the back."

Vale's terror stabbed at his mind.  _"What are you_ _ **doing**_ _?!"_

"You really have so little trust in me?" Ozpin whispered as if he had not planned this.

As if he had not led America to this room for a reason.

As if he had not tried to get America to go with him  _alone_.

"You haven't really done much to inspire confidence." America said with deceptive lightness. "You withhold information, act shady, manipulate, and sometimes outright  _lie_. My first view into your secret little conspiracy was you and your buddies leaning over me in a dark room. You weren't exactly giving me the image of benevolent saviors of Remnant. It was…  _terrifying_. I was alone, outnumbered, and had no idea what you wanted from me. It turns out you wanted me to be willing to die." His fingers brushed the ancient altar. "I understand, though. I understand why you don't trust people and see them as varying amounts of expendable, even if you do not mean to."

"Alfred, I do not—"

America locked gazes with him. "Look me in the eye and tell me this: if Salem was in that doorway and Pyrrha offered to stay behind, would you leave her to die? If we were cornered with no hope of escape, would you consider shooting me to keep me out of her hands?" His heart was heavy and cold in his chest. "That's the reason why you stood behind me when the airship showed up. Is that right?"

Ozpin's eyes focused on him and flicked left for the briefest second.

America sat down on the altar that lay above the basin that had been filled with the blood of dozens of innocents, and stared unblinkingly at Ozpin. "Killing me here would replenish your magic, wouldn't it? That's why Vale is freaking out. We're over a magic nexus, and I'm a nation. Sounds like you'd get a pretty big boost from a sacrifice like that. I mean, the Kingdom's already doomed so why does the personification matter,  _right_?"

Ozpin's knuckles cracked as his fingers clenched.

Pyrrha stepped closer to America. "Alfred, what are you—?"

America held up a hand to silence her. "It's okay, Pyrrha."

She sent him an uneasy look but did not interfere.

America kept his sights on Ozpin. His expression was blank. "You've been planning this."

Ozpin's neutral expression wavered. His gaze flicked down.

" _Alfred—"_

_Vale, I've got this._  "You  _have_. You  _knew_  this place was here. You brought us here  _intentionally_." America nodded to himself. "I'm not surprised. I'm already a sacrifice in your eyes. I've  _always_  been, ever since you found out I had a piece of Vale's Aura." He sighed, and touched the altar once more. "We're in the final stretch of your war, and I'm the last thing Salem needs to win. You'll kill me to keep her from getting me."

"Only as a last resort." Ozpin admitted softly, and a smarter person than America would already be running. "I  _do_ care for you, Alfred."

America appreciated his honesty, though he also knew what Ozpin did not say. "Not more than stopping Salem. Needs of the many and all that. Plus, defeating Salem is the only way to break your curse. A little extra power might help you a lot." His lips curled into a ghost of a bitter smile. "Who knows, maybe you'll get enough power to open the Vault yourself."

Ozpin's glowing golden eyes locked onto him. "You are correct. And if I have enough magic I might be able to save your brother."

America had a feeling such a claim was coming, but when it came he still froze.

Pyrrha's weapons flicked to her hands. "Ozpin, I don't know what you think you're doing but—"

Green light flared and Pyrrha and Penny slammed into the wall. The champion gasped but the robotic girl thrashed madly, struggling in the green light that surrounded her like a transparent cocoon. She could not escape her prison, however, nor could she use her weapons. Pyrrha's desperate struggles showed her predicament was the same.

America swallowed the lump in his throat. "You hid how much magical power you really had. Should've known." He raised his hands in surrender. "Please don't hurt them. I won't fight you."

Ozpin's expression almost looked pained. A layer of his mask had peeled away and America could now see the broken man he was. Here was a soul that fought for thousands of years and lost over and over, becoming desensitized to all the pain and deaths he ordered or indirectly caused. He regretted failing those people, yet he could not let that regret affect him. He had to see each sacrifice as a stepping stone to reach his goal, because if he believed otherwise, it meant those sacrifices were all  _meaningless_.

Not only that, but this was the final battle. This was his final chance. There would be no more do-overs. And he was about to  _lose_. His best nature did not matter, nor did his desire to be a beacon for good. Morality was sound in theory, but in a war of humanity versus potential extinction, some sacrifices had to be made. If Ozpin had not realized that long ago, he would not still fight now.

And he knew  _exactly_  what he was doing.

"Don't you dare give up for us." Pyrrha breathed. "We're  _NOT WORTH IT!_ "

America could not look at her.  _But I'm not worth it either._

"Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Alfred." Ozpin's voice was steady, and there was no conflict in his eyes. Not even from Oscar.

America's chest felt cold. "Oscar isn't aware at all, is he?"

Ozpin's gold eyes never wavered. "No."

"...You're slowly overriding his soul." America realized. "That's why you've been in control so much lately."

Ozpin closed his eyes briefly. "Yes."

It might be the most honest he had ever been with America. The nation might appreciate it if not for the grief that stabbed through his chest. It was not fully his own, but also Vale's. He realized she had always known what happened to Ozpin's 'reincarnations'. She had known, but could not say anything. There was no time to consider it now.

"Will an increase in your power help save him?" he asked, proud that his voice did not shake.

"No. I cannot prevent the assimilation. It is part of my curse. Oscar is beyond help unless Salem is defeated in time." Gold eyes flickered. "The same may be true for Matthew."

America looked at the altar and his heart pounded frantically in his chest. He knew Ozpin was manipulating him. He  _knew_  it. And yet he could not get the image of the black marks staining Canada's skin out of his head.

_He's tricking you._

_But what if he's telling the truth?_

_He's trying to kill you._

_He's desperate._

_He's trying to_ _**kill you** _ _._

_There must be some truth in there—_

_**He's trying to**_   _ **KILL YOU**_ _._

America could not differentiate between his own thoughts and Vale's. Despite the warm coat he wore, his arms felt cold. He crossed them over his chest, risking a glance at Pyrrha and Penny. The champion still thrashed, clearly unable to use her Semblance. Penny was unnaturally still. Had she deactivated?

"Alfred, listen to me." Pyrrha said, a desperate edge to her voice. "I know you want to help Matthew but you  _can't_  do it like this. Do you honestly think he would  _want_  this?"

America knew the answer, but he dare not say it with the two girls in Ozpin's magical grasp.

Seeing he would not— could not— respond, Pyrrha glared at her old Headmaster, tears in her green eyes as she strained against the magical prison that pinned her to the wall. "And  _you_. You— You think you'll get away with this? Do you think we'll keep silent? That we won't tell his  _family_  what you've done? You won't be able to hide this from them."

"There is a reason the people do not remember the true history of this world, Ms. Nikos." Ozpin told her quietly.

Pyrrha realized what he was implying and her jaw clicked shut as furious tears swam in her eyes. "They won't accept your lies. They'll realize what you did. They'll realize you're a monster just as bad as  _Salem_."

Ozpin did not spare her a glance. His golden gaze never left America. America felt faint, as if he could not take in enough oxygen. Ozpin's magic was heavy in the air, pressing down on him from all sides as it squeezed the air from his lungs. The intense look on Ozpin's face suggested that was intentional.

"How long have you been planning this?" America wheezed, desperate for any time he could give himself.

Surprisingly, Ozpin answered. "Since our airship crashed, and… more thoroughly after Salem appeared to you."

"Oh." America choked. "I guess that was a scary near-miss, huh? You almost lost your Vale and your war. Is that why you were so quiet for a while and kept staring at me? Thinking about murder?"

A muscle in Ozpin's jaw quivered.

"It  _is_  murder, you know." America continued. "Premeditated and all that." He laughed. It came out high-pitched and strained. "I-I… Is this  _real_? Are  _you_  for real? I can't  _believe_  you. How can you think this is okay? And here I was, worried you'd murder Mattie."

"You need to understand, Alfred." Ozpin said in that solemn, compelling voice of his. "Salem is on our doorstep and we are outmatched. This may give us a chance. For you it may not matter, but it could save your  _family_. JNPR, RWBY—"

Anger flared through America. "Oh, you're pulling  _that_  card? You can go fuc—"

He glanced at Pyrrha and Penny in their magic prisons and went silent, reconsidering his words. He belatedly realized that electricity had not flickered over his skin with his fury. In fact, he could not seem to reach Vale's powers  _at all_.

Could Ozpin  _negate_  Semblances? Was that  _his_  Semblance? America forced his gaze away from Pyrrha and swallowed. He had to keep his head. Panicking or cussing out Ozpin would not help him or them.

_Vale? Ideas?_

She was too terrified to hear him. Her memories shoved at America's consciousness and he saw  _halls with green banners—_

"So are you going to go full-on supervillain now?" America asked. "Are you going to kill me and all the witnesses?" Another high-pitched, strangled laugh burst out of him, tinged with hysteria. "What a  _joke_. Pyrrha's right, you know. They'll figure it out. They're not  _stupid_. If  _this_  is how you plan, no wonder Salem keeps beating—"

Green light surrounded him and his feet left the ground as Cobalt Striker was torn from his back. He experienced a brief, blissful moment of weightlessness before he landed hard on the altar. His back hit the stone with enough force that he felt his spine creak. Sadly, the rough drop did not break the altar and he lay on its pristine surface, unable to do more than wiggle frantically like a worm pinned to a fishing hook. Apparently immunity to paralyzing drugs did not extend to paralyzing spells. He distantly heard Cobalt Striker fall to the ground with a clatter and realized Pyrrha was screaming, shouting at the top of her lungs as she called for help.

" _This isn't happening."_  Vale wheezed.  _"This isn't happening."_

Her fear spiked and a familiar accented voice jabbed through America's mind. _"—It is as we agreed, Vale. The Relic of Choice will be hidden beneath this Academy. Now, I will need you to activate your Aura while you hold this—"_

" _No_ _."_

_Incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"_

" _I said no. I will have no part in your 'new solution.'"_

"I'm sorry, Alfred, but I  _need_  this temple's power." Ozpin said as America struggled against the pull of the memory. "Salem has changed. She's  _evolved._ She has three Relics, and her power has grown. Meanwhile, I've only grown  _weaker_." He took a breath. "If you are— With you, I can regain the power I left here. That will give me a  _chance_. My  _last chance_."

The stone of the altar was icy cold to the touch and America shivered. Ozpin's magic pressed down on him, specifically his throat, just enough to make his vision blur as it urged him to give in. His chest heaved and he stared up at the soothing green flames flickering above him. He had to stay calm. Freaking out would not help him, Pyrrha, or Penny. Even if he screamed it would not matter. If Ozpin thought the others could hear them he would not do this here.

"I can put you to sleep." Ozpin said, almost as if to himself. "You won't feel a thing."

America glared at him. "Don't pretend you're being merciful." he rasped. "Don't pretend you'd do that for  _my_  benefit. You're a  _coward_ who can't bear to _see the life drain from my eyes._ "

Ozpin did not deny it.

"I see why you and Ironwood were pals." America whispered. "You're  _just like_  each other."

Except Ironwood changed his ways in the end and acted with clear regret while Ozpin…

The unyielding—  _cold_ — look in his golden eyes said it all.

"No." Ozpin disagreed. "James is nothing like me. His mistakes will never compare to mine. He has not had to make the sacrifices I have. I… I will do what I  _must_. The fate of Remnant depends on me."

— _Disappointed, in a seemingly-benign way. "The fate of Remnant depends on this Vault, Vale. And yet you insist on sulking like a child?"_

_Not fooled. "Call it what you want. I will have no part in this."_

"You're rather full of yourself, aren't you?" America breathed. "And here I thought  _I_  was egocentric. Shocking twist: You can't save the world alone, dumbass. And maybe if you stopped  _getting people killed_  you'd have some followers left to rely on."

Ozpin shook his head. "It is too late. I have chosen my path."

_Toneless, calculating. "Are you certain you will not assist us willingly?"_

_Crisp, icy, firm. "I have made my choice."_

_Cold. "Very well. Guards,_ _**hold her down** _ _."_

America forced the fragmented memory away in time to see Ozpin halt in front of the dagger, staring down at it. He was at America's right side— not in his blind spot— but in that moment America wished he was at his left so he would not be able to see him.

Although the magic pressed in around him and choked him, America did not fall asleep and he realized Ozpin's offer to render him unaware had been rescinded. Or perhaps Ozpin took his words to heart, and wanted him conscious so America could have the twisted dignity of not dying in his sleep.

Pyrrha began screaming for Jaune, for  _anyone_  to help. Penny was not moving. America and Vale's fear— both past and present— merged into one.

"You don't want to do this." he croaked.

_Pleading. "Stop. You don't want to do this."_

_Remorseless._   _"Activate your Semblance._ _ **Now**_ _."_

_Pain. Pressure. It surrounded her head and slithered into her brain and crushed her skull. She fought it, she resisted it, but eventually the pain became too much and—_

Was America crying or Vale?

_Pleased. "Thank you for your cooperation. This would have been much easier if you simply obeyed your King."_

_Defiant, even with tear-filled eyes. "You're not my King. You'll_ _**never** _ _be my King. You_ _**murdered** _ _my King to wear his skin."_

_Anger, glowing green and gold as something shimmered with godlike light._

" _YOU WILL NOT SPEAK ILL OF YOUR MASTER!"_

_**Agony** _ _. Her tongue_ _**boiled** _ _. Her throat_ _**burned** _ _. Claws sank into her lungs and_ _**shredded** _ _them as they took her words away. She could not speak she could not think she could not breathe—_

"I've already sacrificed thousands of lives." Ozpin said bitterly. "What is one more?"

Ozpin's fingers closed around the dagger and he lifted it from its stand. The movement was deft and practiced, with the ease of someone who had done this plenty of times. He was serene and certain in his decision, and in response America's skin went clammy and cold  _as Vale's nerves were set alight—_

_Pained screams. Choked sobs._

_A gasp, filled with regret."What is this? What did I—? No. Vale, I didn't mean— Don't run!"_

_Terror, fleeing. Was that hands or magic that tried to hold him in place?_

_Ozpin's voice called after him. "Vale, come back! I can undo it. Vale, please it was not my intention to bind you— Guards, STOP HER! Vale, I promise I won't harm you again. I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!"_

"I'm sorry, America." Ozpin said. "I've made my choice."

He lowered the dagger to America's chest, pointing it at his heart. It pricked his skin, and a drop of blood beaded at the dagger's tip. America saw it sink into the metal. Pyrrha was screaming, Penny was not moving, and Oscar was nowhere to be found in those remorseless golden eyes. America's own eyes stung with tears but he refused to look away from the golden gaze that had taken so much from him.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt me again."

Ozpin froze.

His eyes turned hazel.

Oscar stared at America with open confusion, and looked from him to the dagger in his hand. He flinched, jerking back, and the dagger fell to the ground with a metallic clatter. Oscar grabbed his head and fell to his knees, face twisted in pain.

"STOP IT!"

America made to rise only to realize Ozpin's magic was still keeping him pinned. Penny and Pyrrha remained trapped as well. Oscar's eyes snapped up to America, flashing gold. He squeezed them shut and shook his head wildly.

"NO!  _LEAVE THEM ALONE!_ "

Green light flickered. Pyrrha fell to the floor with a harsh thud. Penny collapsed lifelessly beside her, unmoving. America remained pinned to the altar, unable to rise. Oscar trembled, either from effort or fear and his fingers contorted as they pressed against his head. He crouched next to the altar and rocked back and forth, hands over his ears.

"I won't let you. I won't let you.  _I won't let you._ " he rambled, still rocking.

His teeth clenched, grating audibly, and the magic surrounding America wavered. He forced his muscles to work and lurched, falling off the altar. Again, Oscar's eyes snapped to him and his hands twitched.

"Cobalt." Oscar choked. " _Please_."

America had no idea what he wanted with the weapon. Handing him anything that could be used to cause harm was probably a terrible idea. And yet he snatched the bat off the ground and handed it to the struggling boy anyway, stepping back.

Oscar's flashing hazel eyes softened and he smiled briefly at him.

Then he grasped the bat in both hands and swung it at his own head. It collided with his forehead with a resounding  _crack_ , and flickering hazel-to-gold eyes slipped closed.

Oscar crumpled soundlessly to the floor, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, the seven "sacrifices" are: America himself, Vale, Oscar, Pyrrha, Penny, the Warrior King, and Ozpin's last shreds of morality (and possibly sanity). Take from that what you will.


	26. The Hunter and the Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A bit more swearing in this chapter than usual.

From an outside view of the temple, everything was as peaceful as it could be with Grimm and Salem's strongest lurking outside the protective barrier. Six people stood guard— Ivan, Kiku, Winter, Blake, Sterlyn, and a reluctant Romano— as they patrolled back and forth or stayed hidden from prying eyes. Even the weather was serene and sunny, shining golden light down on the ruins and making them appear straight out of something from a fairy tale filled with magic.

It was indeed filled with magic, but not the kind that parents would tell children stories about. This magic brought nothing but misery and pain. For inside the temple, it was anything  _but_  peaceful.

Pyrrha stayed in Jaune's arms and could not force herself to move away, not even to help Francis as he tried to hold Arthur back. Whoever thought France was a coward was sorely mistaken, for he shoved himself bodily between England and his target, one hand on the nation's staff to keep it pointed at the ground.

" _No_ , Angleterre. The shield relies on him—"

" _Shield be damned!_ " England shouted. "Step aside, or I'll  _make_  you."

Pyrrha glanced at the doorway, where none of the guards outside had moved, and realized the temple must be soundproofed like she had suspected when her friends failed to come when she screamed. She laid her head in the crook of Jaune's neck and he gripped her tighter.

France's jaw clenched and he did not move aside. "You are not thinking clearly. Stop this at once."

"He tried to  _murder_   _America, Pyrrha, AND Penny_!" England thundered and the very temple shook with his rage.

Oscar lay in the corner, oblivious to the argument deciding his fate. They had tied him up with strips of metal torn from the lamps and forged into makeshift restraints by Pyrrha. At England's insistence, the homemade manacles covered Oscar's hands completely. Pyrrha hoped the strips of cloth inside them would make them a tad less uncomfortable. Oscar did not deserve any more pain than what he was already experiencing. He looked so small and vulnerable, but Pyrrha needed to remember he was not the one they were trying to keep contained.

" _I KNOW THAT!_ " France snapped. "And  _YOU_  know why we cannot kill Ozpin! I'll say it again: If he dies, the shield goes as well. As a mage, I thought that would be  _obvious_  to you."

"He'll reincarnate." England said darkly.

"But he'll still  _die_  before he comes back. The shield could waver and Salem only needs a moment. Or the shield could  _explode_  because the person casting it is dying inside it. Not to mention Oscar does not deserve that fate. Stop being a  _mindless brute_  and  _think_."

England's staff glowed ominously.

Ruby stepped between them. "Please, stop. Fighting won't help." she said quietly. Her silver eye flicked to Arthur but immediately went back to Ozpin, like she dare not look away from him for too long. "Can you block his magic?"

"Not here." Arthur growled. "The nexus is attuned to him, and him alone. Nor can we rely on those restraints to keep him powerless since he can use magic without  _that_." He took a second to glower at the cane in Jaune's hands. Violet light flared over his skin and Pyrrhas breath caught in her throat.

"Not to mention he can turn off Semblances." Yang muttered darkly.

"We aren't absolutely sure he can do that." Feliciano brought up timidly.

Pyrrha knew that hopeful claim was false. She shuddered, remembering her desperation as she tried and failed to use her Semblance to help Alfred. She'd done everything she could to tear the dagger from Ozpin's grasp but it was like she'd never had Polarity in the first place. The feeling of absolute helplessness she experienced was one she never hoped to feel again. She knew she was not the only one still reeling from what had happened.

Alfred currently sat in the corner as far away from Ozpin as possible with Matthew, Weiss, Yang, and Jett at his sides. He did not appear to notice his guards or the conversation going on, instead staring down at Penny as he cradled the limp android's head in his lap. Try as he might, he could not wake her, and Pyrrha was beginning to fear Ozpin's claim that his magic would wipe electrical systems may not have been a lie. If Ozpin had killed Penny—  _again_ …

"Wait. If Ozpin can negate Semblances, why didn't he negate Vale's when Cinder was using it to—?" Jaune cut himself off, eyes widening with realization. "That son of a—"

"Maybe Salem made Cinder immune to Ozpin's Semblance somehow." Ruby interrupted. "Or maybe she was naturally immune, like how Matthew and Alfred are immune to Emerald's Semblance. Maybe that's why Salem recruited her. Or maybe—"

"Maybe Ozpin let himself die as another gambit." Yang interrupted bitterly. She leaned against the wall next to Alfred, weapons deployed and eyes flashing between red and dull blue. "Stop, Ruby. Just  _stop_. He tried to  _murder_ Alfred, and was going to kill Pyrrha and Penny to eliminate the witnesses.  _Stop_."

Ruby went silent.

"What do we do?" Feliciano whispered. "We— We aren't safe here. Salem is outside, Ozpin is in here with the ability to control the nexus, and we're trapped with both of them." He gripped the malachite necklace at his throat but did not break it, looking desperately to Arthur.

Jett gasped. "What if we use your necklaces to go to Earth and…?"

Arthur was already shaking his head. "Even if we teleport to Earth and return, there is no telling where we would end up on Remnant. We may even end up right back here because the highest concentration of people we all 'know' are gathered outside."

"Salem knew." Alfred whispered suddenly. He looked up, green eye hidden by his eyepatch while the blue one was dull with shock. "Salem knew Ozpin brought us here to sacrifice me. She said you would not let him take what he wanted..."

_"My life."_  went unsaid.

Pain joined the fury on Arthur's face but he did not move away from Oscar. Matthew pulled away from Ren and sat beside his twin, yanking him into a brief hug. He let go too quickly, like he had been burned. More accurately, he pulled away like he was afraid he would burn his brother. Pyrrha's eyes were drawn to his chest, which was currently covered by his red sweatshirt. She could not see the black marks but no one could forget they were there, as unsettling as a shadow out of the corner of their eyes.

Alfred noticed everyone was looking at him and planted on a smile. "Here's an idea. How about I serve as a distraction while you guys run for—"

" **NO!** " everyone shouted.

Alfred recoiled with a wince. "I was joking. To lighten the mood? Jeez."

Pyrrha could see the angry rebuke burning Arthur's tongue but he held it in.

Yang chuckled humorlessly. "So to summarize: We can't kill Ozpin because we might lose the shield and Salem is right outside. Your portal necklaces are useless because you'd appear right back here if you return, and if you didn't return Salem would just continue the hunt on Earth and keep destroying Vale here to hurt Alfred. Ozpin can stop Semblances from working. Oscar's soul is being absorbed by his. Oh, and Penny won't wake up. Am I forgetting any other way that we're  _screwed_?"

Matthew winced and rubbed his chest.

Yang laughed bitterly. "Oh, yeah. The Grimm parasite. This is just  _perfect_."

Weiss shot her a disapproving look.

"How badly does it hurt?" Alfred asked his twin sharply.

"It just stings." Matthew claimed.

Alfred raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And you always scold  _me_  when I downplay my injuries. You're such a hypocrite." His voice was too weary to sound upset.

Matthew jabbed his brother in the arm. "I learned from the best."

"I learned it from you. You're the older one." Alfred rolled his eye. Pyrrha would believe he was calming down if not for the way his hands trembled.

"You're going to be okay." he whispered as if he was trying to convince himself.

Matthew chuckled weakly. "Worry about yourself."

Alfred made a face. "No thanks." His expression crumpled. "Seriously, you  _need_  to tell me how badly it hurts. Ozpin kept saying you're in danger. I know he might have been lying to try to convince me to sacrifice myself but what if—"

"Hey." Matthew interjected soothingly. "It's just a little pain and discomfort. Honestly."

It was clear Alfred did not believe him. A shudder passed through him and he moved Penny's head, settling her on a blanket. He then curled up in the corner, facing the stone wall, and his shoulders shook. Pyrrha could not tell if he was crying or merely shaking. Matthew stayed at his side, hand on his shoulder, while Ren crouched nearby, hand pressed discreetly to the floor.

Weiss's sharp gasp drew her attention away from Ren to see her gripping her weapon tightly, her blue eyes on Oscar.

"He's waking up."

XXXXXXX

"He's waking up."

The words snapped America out of his daze and sent a chill up his spine. For a moment he sat in place, facing the corner with the alien desire for no one to notice him while he tried to breath evenly because  _Ozpin tried to kill him_. He actually tried to  _sacrifice_  him. Not only that but what he ordered his men to do to  _Vale_ —

Oscar's body stirred. England and France's weapons never wavered as they pointed at the "boy's" face. Once America might have chided them for pointing weapons at the kid, but said kid wasn't in the driver's seat at the moment. The other soul inside him was too dangerous to be left alone.

Because now, America had seen what made Vale go silent.

Now, he had seen what Ozpin was capable of, both in the present and the past.

Now America knew the  _truth_.

So when Oscar's eyes opened and glowed gold, America felt no pity for Ozpin anymore.

_Vale stood in a grand hall lined with green banners. Guards were positioned stiffly below each and every banner, dressed in armor with green capes and chest plates that proudly bore her symbol. Once, the men wearing her symbol might have filled her with pride, but now she only felt unease. Vale knew they were not loyal to her. They cared for their country, yes, but the personification of that country? No. Their loyalty to her was not above their loyalty to their King._

_A King they refused to believe was gone._

_It was her Warrior King who ended the Great War. It was her King who told her of the plans to create four Vaults for the Relics and hide them beneath the new Huntsmen Academies._

_It was_ _**not** _ _her King who came up with that plan. It was_ _**not** _ _her King that brought that plan into fruition. It was_ _**not** _ _her King that sat on the throne of Vale, staring down at her with logical, cold blue eyes._

_It was those eyes that told Vale her King was gone._

_One day, her King told her he was feeling unwell. Weak. Tired. Faint. She had foolishly urged him to go to bed, ushering him away gently like she had when he was a small child. He had grumbled just like he used to back then but left with good grace, going to sleep._

_He never woke up._

_Only Ozpin did._

_His eyes were not gold like they always became when Ozpin was in control._

_No, they were blue like her King's._

_They were an icy, detached blue, that were_ _**not** _ _her King's._

_Many would say her King's heart was too big and soft. That was why he stayed out of the Great War for so long. That was why it took Ozpin's whispers for him to use the Relics in Vacuo. Her King was too kind and compassionate for war._

_Ozpin was not. He was an old soul, hardened by years of war and failure. His eyes reflected the cold, calculating mindset that may have once been compassionate like her King's but now saw people as pieces to be used in his war against Salem._

_No one else noticed the change. No one else had noticed when her King was in control less and less and Ozpin more and more. No one cared, because they did not_ _**want** _ _to understand. Some of them even preferred their "King's" new, "stronger" mindset._

_Vale noticed. Vale cared. Yet she still failed to understand what was happening until it was too late._

_So here she stood, at the foot of the stairs that led to her King's throne. She did not bow, because the fake sitting in that throne was not her King. He was her King's **murderer**._

_She kept these thoughts deep down and off her face. As a nation, she knew what it was like for her leadership to suddenly change hands. It often happened to Mistral, and Mantle, and even Vacuo._

_It had never happened to her. Especially not like this. Ozpin had killed her King. He had snuffed out his soul like it was a measly candle and showed no regret, instead slipping into his role as Vale's leader like he believed it was owed to him. Vale did not accept that. She would never accept that. Ozpin may rule her Kingdom, but she would not allow this immortal, **immoral**  soul to rule _ _**her** _ _._

_Oblivious to her thoughts, Ozpin held out the grey orb. "It is as we agreed, Vale. The Relic of Choice will be hidden beneath this Academy. Now, I will need you to activate your Aura while you hold this—"_

" _No." Vale said coldly._

_Ozpin paused, an incredulous look passing over his face. "I beg your pardon?"_

" _I said no." Vale repeated. "I will have no part in your 'new solution.'"_

" _You agreed earlier—"_

" _I changed my mind. And I made no such agreement with_ _ **you**_ _."_

_Shock gave way to an almost parental disappointment. "The fate of Remnant depends on this Vault, Vale. And yet you insist on sulking like a child?"_

_Vale was not fooled by Ozpin's facade of benignity. Not anymore. "Call it what you want. I will have no part in this."_

_Proving her point, his blue gaze— blue eyes that were once warm— grew calculating. "Are you certain you will not assist us willingly?"_

_Vale buried her grief deep down and kept her voice firm. "I have made my choice."_

_Ozpin's expression iced over, becoming colder than Solitas. "Very well. Guards,_ _**hold her down** _ _."_

_Vale's breath hitched. As the guards closed in, she lashed out. She snapped one guard's knee with a kick, left another choking with a punch, and shattered a third's jaw. She dare not use her Semblance, not with the orb so close, so she relied on her strength to beat the guards into submission._

_She would have won if green light did not surround her and slam her to the floor._

_The guards immediately held her down by her wrists and ankles. No matter how she thrashed and struggled, she could not break free._

_Ozpin nodded at one of the men that used to be her King's. Vale recognized him. He was the man the King hired only because he feared what he would do if left unchecked. The guard had a terrible Semblance, one that no kind man could ever have. He had acted as her King's torturer during the war, a bitter, horrible evil that her King coldly ordered in public but sobbed about in private._

_Despite her determination, she was not above begging. "Stop. You don't want to do this."_

_There was no mercy or remorse in Ozpin's eyes._   _"Activate your Semblance._ _ **Now**_ _."_

_Vale's jaw quivered. "No."_

_Ozpin's eyes closed. "Force her."_

_The guard put a hand to her forehead._

_Pain. Pressure. It surrounded her head and slithered into her brain and crushed her skull. She fought it, she resisted it, but eventually the pain became too much and lightning instinctively flared. The guard staggered back, howling in pain, but he had succeeded._

_Green light flickered and sank into the orb. It glowed green._

_Ozpin smiled, pleased. "Thank you for your cooperation." He gently set the orb in a crate and closed it. "This would have been much easier if you simply obeyed your King."_

_Vale glared at him, defiant even as tears of pain trickled down her cheeks."You're not my King. You'll_ _**never** _ _be my King. You_ _**murdered** _ _my King to wear his skin."_

_Green light flared over his skin and golden, godlike light shimmered over his crown."You_ _**insolent** _ _wench. I refuse to sit here and allow you to insult your leader. YOU WILL NOT SPEAK ILL OF YOUR MASTER AGAIN!"_

_The Relic of Choice gleamed._

_Vale's legs buckled and she clutched at her throat as_ _**agony** _ _tore through her_ _. Her tongue_ _**boiled** _ _. Her throat_ _**burned** _ _. Claws sank into her lungs and_ _**shredded** _ _them as they took her words away. She could not speak she could not think she could not breathe—_

_Vale's nerves were set alight and she screamed and sobbed, writhing on the floor. As quickly as the pain came, it passed, leaving her gasping and whimpering on the stone floor of Ozpin's throne room._

_Ozpin balked and removed the Relic of Choice from his head, skin going ashen. He gasped, and for the first time, there was regret on his face_ _."What is this? What did I—? No. Vale, I didn't mean— Don't run!"_

_Vale was already running. Something latched onto her arm but she shoved it away blindly. Was that hands or magic that tried to hold her in place?_

_Ozpin's voice called after her. "Vale, come back! I can undo it. Vale, please it was not my intention to bind you— Guards, STOP HER!"_

_She heard the clatter of armor and threw a wave of fire behind her. A few of the guards screamed in shock but they all had Aura, so none were burned. It was enough of a distraction that she was able to rush to the window. She broke through it as Ozpin's scream came behind her._

" _Vale, I promise I won't harm you again. I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!"_

_Vale hit the ground. Her bones creaked and strained as she struck the earth and for a moment she lay there, winded. Above her came another shout._

" _BRING HER BACK!"_

_Vale forced herself to her feet and took to the air. A bullet whizzed past her head but she kept flying, fleeing from the castle and the monster that took her throne._

_The guards hunted her for weeks. Every time she dared to land they would soon be upon her. She had no time to rest, little time to find food or eat, and so she kept fleeing as her body grew weaker and weaker and the pain in her throat refused to cease._

_She fled across the forests, across the rivers and oceans. She fled further and further north, to the one person she prayed would not return her to Ozpin._

_She collapsed in the midst of a snowstorm, nearly crashing into a building in the City of Mantle._

_Seeing the lightning mixed with his snow, her brother came running. He stumbled upon her, nearly tripping over her as she lay shivering in a snow bank. Her brother stared down at her, eyes round with shock._

" _Amber? You're injured. What happened to you?"_

_Her eyes burned with tears that froze in her eyelashes. She tried to tell him, tried to warn him about Ozpin, but the words stayed trapped in her mind and her throat boiled with every attempt._

" _Ákos." she whimpered, reaching desperately for him._

_Her brother reached back for her and she felt her limbs go weak._

_She fell into his arms and blacked out._

"You're a monster." America whispered.

Ozpin recoiled. "Alfred, please let me explain—"

"No." America said tremulously. "You don't get to 'explain'. I already  _know_  what you did. Vale's so terrified of you that her  _fear_  was able to overcome the geas you put on her."

Ozpin's skin went white.

"I know what you did to Vale." America choked. "You held her down and  _tortured_  her until she used her Semblance on the device that would lock Relic and the Vault's door. You used the Relic of Choice to stop her from speaking badly of you. You had your men  _hunt her like an_   _animal_."

Ozpin flinched.

"Mantle found her." Canada breathed, eyes round.

Ozpin barely spared him a glance. "I'm  _sorry_ , Alfred. I swear I've changed—"

His bound hands reached towards America. America instinctively shrank away from him, heart in his throat. Canada shoved his twin behind him, teeth bared and eyes glowing with a violent violet light.

"Touch him and I'll  _destroy_  you." Canada snarled, his voice unnaturally low.

He balked, startled by his own vehemence, and his skin turned ashen. He shot America a terrified glance, hand to his chest, and America slowly realized the Grimm essence may already be affecting his brother. Was it only enhancing his negative emotions, or was it making him more violent by default?

Ozpin's gold eyes dulled with comprehension. "I feared this would happen. Matthew, you cannot let Salem influence you."

Canada shrank in on himself.

America's terror vanished like a blown-out candle. "Shut.  _Up_." he breathed. "This isn't about Mattie and Salem. This is about  _you_. Stop trying to change the damn subject and admit that you're an immoral  _monster_. You go around claiming you're the good guy and are acting for the greater good when you pull bullshit like  _this_. What the hell is  _wrong_  with you?"

"I've done many things in my past that I am not proud of." Ozpin admitted. "But I learned from my mistakes. I— I realized what I had done was wrong. I sought to become better."

America could believe it. He could believe that the cold, ruthless man who had hurt Vale had regretted his choices and tried to improve himself. However, all that effort and good intentions went down the drain because of one unforgivable act. Because no matter his intentions, no matter how desperate the situation was, and no matter how one looked at it, Ozpin tried to kill an ally for more power and murder the witnesses.

"Well you  _failed_." America snarled unsympathetically. "You failed the moment you thought about  _murdering_  me to gain power. You failed when you considered  _murdering_  Pyrrha and Penny because they were there. You're  _out_  of second chances. As soon as we get out of this temple, we're  _done_. If you have any willingness to be ' _better'_  left, you can stow away as deep in Oscar's head as you can manage and  _fuck off_."

No one objected to his statement, and no one looked at Ozpin with sympathy, not even Ruby. Ozpin's expression went blank as he realized just how much damage his actions had caused. Because he tried to kill one of their own, their shaky allegiance to him had crumbled completely.

"And if you try to stay here, expect a bullet to the face." Yang snarled, eyes red.

America's gaze snapped to her. " _No_."

"That will not be necessary." England said suddenly. He knelt in front of Ozpin, and the harshness in his green eyes lessened. "Oscar. I have a sleeping spell that can be triggered to knock you out if Ozpin becomes a problem. Would you like me to cast it on you?"

Oscar gave no reply. America wondered if he even heard England. Ozpin stared at England stonily and his golden eyes never flickered. His expression twitched briefly but he gave no other reaction.

"I think Oscar would agree." Feliciano said quietly.

The look on Ozpin's face said the boy did. America cautiously approached and crouched next to England, ignoring his brother's warning glance.

"We're going to save you, Oscar." America promised. "So hang in there, okay?"

For a moment golden eyes turned hazel and tears dripped down tan cheeks. America resisted the urge to hug the poor kid and kept his distance.

"You're going to be okay." he repeated firmly.

Oscar sniffled and nodded. "I want that sleeping spell, please."

England took out his spellbook and began flipping through pages. "This spell can be activated at any time by you or us. I will give you a phrase to—"

"You don't need to delay it. You can do it now." Oscar said. His head was held high but his bound hands trembled. He swallowed visibly. "I don't want him to get the chance to hurt anyone."

"He won't." England promised, perhaps naively. He seemed to realize that and grimaced. "We cannot activate the spell yet for the same reason we cannot make Ozpin leave."

"The shield." Oscar whispered. He trembled. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"It wasn't you." America said firmly, realizing what he was thinking. "It was  _Ozpin_. You saved me, and Pyrrha and Penny."

Oscar shook his head. " _No_ , I didn't. I did not know what was happening until I woke up standing over you."

America winced but pressed on. "You still saved us because you fought back. You fought back and knocked yourself out. You  _saved_  our lives."

Oscar remained unconvinced. The kid did not seem to notice he was crying. America wished he could gather him into his arms and comfort him, but he could not risk it. None of them could because if Ozpin was willing to kill, he'd be willing to take someone hostage.

So they stayed back as England put the delayed sleeping spell on Oscar. America noticed the activation phrase was different than the one he had. He supposed that made sense. He would not put it past Ozpin to try to use the phrase to put America to sleep— the non-death kind. Though Ozpin would find a way… Maybe. He seemed to regret—

No, Ozpin  _would_. America could not afford to give Ozpin the benefit of the doubt anymore. Not after what he had tried to do.

_He tried to kill me._

America was not sure why he was surprised. He was not sure why the betrayal hurt so much. He knew Ozpin acted questionably before and always saw him as a sacrifice at least a little bit. Even when America was just Alfred the latecomer Beacon student to the Headmaster, he was a potential loss in Ozpin's war against Salem...

A part of America wanted to shove away his hurt and focus on those that may be feeling worse than him. Ozpin's actions were not just a shock to him, after all. But he could not find the energy. Left overwhelmed, his ability to comfort others in this matter had completely turned off, leaving him with the desire to get as much privacy as he could so he could at least try to process things. He did exactly that and returned to his corner, ignoring England, Oscar, Ozpin, his guards, and even Canada and Penny. In that moment, he did not even have the ability to scold himself for his self-centered reaction.

However, even with his inability to process or care, he did not fail to notice that throughout it all, Vale did not say a word.

XXXXXXX

Ruby could not handle this. With every passing second she felt the cracks widening, and knew it would not be much longer before she crumbled. She tried not to  _think_  or  _feel_  but she could not do it. It had been a mere two days since Uncle Qrow— It had been a mere two days since Frontier was destroyed. Her eye had not stopped burning for two whole  _days_.

But now the burning was  _hotter_ , like a sun rather than a flame. The burning was hotter, and she felt  _drained_ , like all the energy had been sucked out of her. She gripped the talisman Arthur had given her and forced herself to breathe. Deep down, she knew she already would have fallen to Silver Eyes if not for the stone.

She wished she had asked more about Silver Eyes. She wished she had not delayed that lesson with Ozpin. She should have been more insistent. She should have asked exactly how Silver Eyes triggered and why, and learned the techniques to prevent it.

Instead she broke her promise to Arthur.

She did not do her best to learn how to control Silver Eyes. In fact, she did not try to control Silver Eyes at all.

And now it was consuming her.

As she stood quietly by the entrance to the temple, everyone was too busy watching Oscar to notice. Watching as Yang and Weiss whispered angrily. Watching as Arthur did his sleeping spell. Watching if Ozpin took control. Watching if he once again became their  **Enemy** —

Ruby's lips twisted into a snarl. She forced it away, but her very muscles fought against her, like they were not under her control.

She was losing control.

She could  _feel_  her  **Enemies**.

Ozpin was right there—  _He tried to kill Alfred, Pyrrha, Penny._

Adam was outside—  _He hurt Blake, Yang._

Roman was, too—  _He hurt Yang, Jaune, Ren, Nora, Alfred, Lovino._

And maybe Salem—  _She destroyed Frontier. Whitley. Klein. And Uncle Qrow—_

Uncle Qrow was  _dead_.

_No_. No, he  _might_  be dead. Sure, he did not answer his Scroll and neither did Whitley. Sure, Frontier had been wiped off the map by Salem. Sure, her uncle could not fight because of his injury, an injury he got saving  _her_ —

In a heartbeat, Ruby's mind cleared. Her vision sharpened, allowing her to see every mote of dust floating in the air. Her nostrils flared, and she smelled sweat and blood and filth and the flowery scent of Weiss and Winter's perfumes.

Ruby recognized it.

She recognized the  _focus_.

She recognized the  _false calm_.

And she recognized  _it_.

She recognized the  **rage**.

Her eye burned with building pressure that begged to be released.

The talisman around her neck glowed, pulsing like a heart struggling to beat.

She was losing control.

She was  _losing control_ , but she still had a  _choice_.

_Stay or move._

The choice was obvious.

Ruby turned away from her arguing teammates and walked out of the temple.

She heard Yang gasp and step towards her. "Ruby, what are you doing?"

"Stay out of my way, Yang."

She felt movement, just a whisper of air. She avoided her sister's grasp, reminding herself this was  _Yang her sister Yang not an attack a few more seconds_ _ **she just needed a few more seconds—**_

"Stay back, Yang."

She recognized Weiss's voice. She hoped Weiss stayed back. She did not want to hurt Weiss again. She did not want to hurt anyone. But she would.

It was a good thing there were people she could hurt outside—  _Tear them apart. Make them suffer. Make them_ _ **pay**_ _._

Blake noticed her coming and walked up to her. "Ruby—"

"Move." Ruby said.

Blake's brow furrowed. "Ruby—?"

Ruby looked at her with her burning eye. " _Move_."

Blake went white and hastily backed away.

Ruby could feel that everyone had followed her. They stood behind her, out of her line of sight, and a part of her appreciated their caution. In front of her were Grimm. They prowled outside of the shield, making the green forest appear black. Her lip curled with disgust. What vile creatures. They were abhorrent freaks of nature. They spotted her and snarled and she sneered back. Did these pathetic beasts think they stood a chance against her?  _Her?_

And Ozpin. He had tried to murder her friends. Did he think she could accept that? That she would not make him pay—

_Don't look back._

Ruby did not look behind her. Not even when she heard Yang grunt. Not even when she heard her sister curse at Ivan and Blake, screaming for them to let her go. Ruby did not look back, only ahead, at the sea of Grimm and the White Fang walking among them. She did not see Salem. She did not see the one responsible for Qrow's death.

She did not see the  **Enemy**.

Ruby's eye pulsed.

"Let me  _go!_  Don't stand there!  _Stop her!_ " Yang screamed.

No one did. Unlike Yang, they did not let their emotions get the best of them. Unlike Ruby's sister, they understood.

Ruby almost smiled. "Feliciano, please stop me again."

With that, she stepped out of the shield and let the Silver Eyes consume her.

XXXXXXX

The air froze. All movement ceased, from the leaves to the branches to the Grimm and people beneath them.

Then the air ignited in a ball of silver flames, bursting outward with the rage of a thousand dying suns. It tore through trees, stone, and Grimm, encasing them in silver light as Ruby's furious scream reverberated like thunder. Burning ash, twigs, and things Canada did not want to identify fell to the scorched ground. Just looking at the light made his chest ache.

The light swirled around Ruby and stretched back from her eye like a single wing. America tackled Canada, shielding his body as the light slammed into the temple's shield. The wave of heat washed over Canada's face and his skin prickled and cracked. The light burned Canada's retinas, leaving warped echoes, and for a moment he saw the skeletons of the trees as they were vaporized. His heart skipped a beat as the light arced backward, crawling along the shield and devouring it, but soon it grew bored and circled forward, settling in Ruby's line of sight.

She ignored the people behind her, rapt gaze staring straight ahead. She stormed into the remnants of the treeline, vanishing from sight. The charged taint in the air lingered. Canada's skin prickled and he dare not move, fearing the light would target him like a shark smelling blood. They should have seen this coming. Ruby was already upset because of Qrow. Ozpin's actions pushed her right over the edge. A pillar of light shot into the sky and Canada cringed, hiding his face as his chest burned.

America noticed his pain. "Are you okay?"

Canada bit his tongue and nodded. Another shudder tore through the earth and pieces of stone fell from the ceiling. As soon as the ground stopped shaking, England darted over to the twins and yanked them up by their arms.

"Get  _up_." he snapped. "We're running."

Yang's eyes flashed red. "We're not leaving—"

"We're not." England agreed. "But we need to leave before we're trapped in here again."

" _By our enemies, or Ruby."_  went unsaid.

"The area to the west has the least enemies." Australia reported as his eyes glowed green.

"We're  _not_ —"

"Ruby left to  _give us time!_ " England bellowed. "If you want to stand here and wait for her to come back, be my  _bloody_  guest."

Yang gritted her teeth but Weiss touched her arm before she could retort. Yang looked at her teammate and red eyes faded to violet. A distant  _thoom_  sent a tremor through the temple and she staggered into Weiss.

England gripped America and Canada's shoulders as his skin flickered with violet light. He took a breath and cast a glare at the stone pillars that no longer seemed so sturdy. America shoved him off and hurried back into the temple. England spat a curse and ran after him, Canada following behind.

Pyrrha and her team were already inside, dashing back and forth as they grabbed bags of supplies and flung them at whoever happened to be nearby. Canada caught a bag and saw Oscar was still sitting in the corner. His lips twisted into a snarl and anger bubbled in his chest.

It truly was a pity Oscar was connected to Ozpin. Otherwise Canada would destroy the immoral bastard. America glanced at the boy and stepped towards him. Something ugly curled in Canada's chest and he shoved past his twin to approach Oscar. The boy saw him coming and paled drastically. His repulsive—  _fragrant_ — terror wafted through the air.

" _No_." Oscar gasped, jerking away from him.

Canada winced, realizing what he must think. "Oscar, I'm not going to hurt—"

"That's not it. I don't trust him not to hurt  _you_." Oscar spoke to Canada, but his eyes flicked to America, showing who he truly feared for. " _Don't_  release me."

Canada nodded and chose not to point out that Ozpin could likely break out of those restraints easily if he wanted to. A glint of metal at the boy's hip caught his eye and he frowned. Since when did Oscar have a dagger? America spotted the weapon as well and recoiled.

"How did you get  _that_?" he gasped.

"What?" Oscar's gaze dropped to his hip and widened. "I don't know."

America snatched the dagger from him and clipped it onto his belt without a word. Canada caught a glimpse of the decorated hilt sticking out of the sheath and comprehended what dagger that was. Before the anger could come bubbling back, another explosion rocked the earth and Canada saw silver light flare in the distance.

"Let's  _move_ , people!" Australia shouted.

America ran to Penny but Romano reached her first.

"I have her." he grunted, settling Penny over his shoulder. " _Go_."

They rushed back out of the shuddering temple as the ground  _lurched_. Canada resisted the instinct to crouch and cover his head with his bag and glanced at the clear blue sky. A flare of silver came from their left and he bit his lip.

Weiss followed his gaze and her pale lips thinned. "Feliciano, can you stay with her?"

" _Excuse_  me?" Romano snapped, pushing between her and his brother.

"He has intangibility. He's our best shot of stopping her without anyone getting hurt."

Weiss's voice was too steady, and if Canada had to guess, he'd say she was using every skill she had in order to remain calm. Actually, he did not need to guess. Her fear tickled his nose, sharp and tantalizing—

_Oh,_ _**crap** _ _._

Any attempts to deny what he was sensing were brutally crushed as Italy's terror washed over him. The Italian was paler than a ghost and his entire body trembled visibly. Despite that, he put a shaking hand on his brother's shoulder to stop him from advancing on Weiss.

"I'll do it." was all he said before he ran out of the temple.

Romano cried out, reaching for his brother, but Italy slipped through his fingers— literally— and vanished into the trees. America stopped Romano from following.

"We don't have time to argue." he said sharply. " _Go_."

Romano shot America a furious— No, he was  _scared_.  _His terror smelled so sweet_...— look, and Canada's lip curled. Did the Italian think that his sniveling anger could mask the scent of his fear? Did he think that Canada would stand by and let a miserable creature like him look at his twin like that—  _Focus_.

Canada forced himself to breathe and focused on Winter's calm face. Unlike many of them, she truly was calm. The calm in the storm, one of the few who was not terrified out of their wits as they prepared to flee past Ruby and who-knew what enemies. Their fear and anger was so annoying—  _intriguing_ — and he was torn between the desire to enhance it and wipe it from existence. No wonder Grimm were always so angry if this was how they viewed negative emotions—  _ **Focus**_.

Canada felt warm finger in his own and followed them to his twin's face. America studied him solemnly— Canada smelled a burst of aromatic fear from him but it vanished— and squeezed his hand. Canada squeezed back, and let his brother drag him out of the temple's shield. He ignored the flare of pain in his chest, the terror swirling around him, and the horrible realization he had yet to acknowledge.

There was no time for that now.

They needed to  _run_.

XXXXXXX

Tears streamed down Italy's cheeks as he ran through broken trees. Some stood with fragile defiance despite the large chunks missing from their trunks, while others were nothing more than jagged spikes of wood, swallowed by the silver inferno that devoured them. Italy was chasing a tornado, or a wildfire, or some other natural disaster, but instead of turning back and fleeing from its wrath, he raced towards it. Despite his heaving chest, dripping eyes, and quiet sobs he still ran after Ruby, because he was the only one who could.

It was too dangerous for any of the humans to try to stop Ruby now. Although his fellow nations could heal from everything Ruby did to them— except maybe America and Canada— they could not afford severe injuries now. They could not afford to lose limbs, or their heads, or patches of skin as Silver Eyes stripped it away—

Italy's breath hitched but he wiped at his eyes and shakily unsheathed his sword. He had stopped Ruby before. He had to do it again. Because once there were no more enemies nearby, Ruby would hunt everyone else. He had seen it happen. He had nearly been a victim. Japan and Weiss  _had_  been victims.

He could not afford to fail.

Italy could feel the heat. He could see the flares of light, flashing like lightning between the trees. He could smell the acrid scent of something burning. He could hear the pained howls and desperate screams.

He reached the end of the unnatural cleared path and watched Ruby turn a Beringel to ashes with a glance. He watched the cheerful girl  _skip_  after a masked White Fang member as she tried to crawl away. Ruby paused behind the struggling Faunus like a predator about to pounce and looked down at her prey, grin wide and unhinged. A gloved hand raised feebly and the White Fang's mouth opened, but the silver light surrounded her before she could plead. When it receded, only ashes remained.

Ruby's head snapped left and she vanished into rose petals. Behind her, the trees exploded into shards, sending projectiles of wood hurtling in her wake. Italy forced his frozen limbs to move and ran after her, keeping her in sight. Ruby ignored him, focusing on the Grimm first and the White Fang second. She appeared in the midst of the Faunus and they barely had time to raise their weapons before they were gone. If Italy did not know better, he would think they had teleported. The ashes they left behind told the truth of their demise.

Ruby turned into petals. Italy gave chase once more. He could not decide what to do. Ruby did not seem to care about him or those back at the temple, but that could change at any moment. Or she could stop mowing through Grimm and White Fang and run into one of Salem's direct followers. Italy was not so naive that he could hope they were unprepared to face a Silver Eyed Warrior. He had to do something. He had to stop her. Surely the others had enough time to run by now?

Ruby locked onto another group of enemies and ran into the trees. Italy caught sight of her in time to see four White Fang turn to dust. Ruby laughed hysterically, like a small child who had successfully broken a disliked toy, and Italy's gorge rose at the needlessness of it all. Ruby was not killing because she must and these White Fang were a threat. They were not even in her way. She was simply killing them because they were enemies and just happened to be  _there_. Was this what it was like when Silver Eyes did not have a specific enemy to focus on? Useless violence without a goal?

Italy could not bear it. The White Fang were his enemy. They would kill and hurt him given the chance. Yet he could not stand by and allow Ruby to hunt them down squad by squad until she ran into something that stood a chance.

Italy scooped up a ball of mud from the forest floor and threw it. It hit Ruby in the center of her back and she halted in place. Slowly, her head turned, and her burning silver eye focused on Italy.

Italy turned on his heel and ran through the trees.

The forest turned to ashes behind him.

Italy held back a scream and kept running, passing directly through wood, stone, and foliage as he fled. He risked a glance behind him and his heart leaped into is throat. Ruby was right behind him. Her silver light cleared her path, leaving her as unhindered as him, and he had to wonder why she did not turn to petals and—

He blinked and Ruby was in front of him, eye wild and grin wide with madness. Italy shrieked and raised his arms, bracing for an impact that never came. He passed harmlessly through Ruby and tripped, falling to the ground. He instinctively curled up into a ball and the silver light passed through him. Ruby snarled in discontent and dove through him scythe first. She did it again. And again. And again. Italy squeezed his eyes shut and felt her pass through him.

_It's just the wind_ , he told himself.

It was just the wind and he wanted to intangible in order to avoid getting in her— its way. Ruby's shriek was harder to deny but Italy kept his eyes closed, terrified he might solidify if he looked. Air rushed through him, then air with a metallic twang. Italy kept his eyes closed and pretended he did not exist. He was a distraction, and nothing more. The wind stopped and he heard the crunch of footsteps on leaves. He felt warm air tickle his face. He heard the crackle of the devouring silver light. He kept his eyes  _shut_.

Ruby hissed and circled around him, her light footsteps crunching on the leaves. Despite himself, Italy felt his terror building. Any minute now, his intangibility was going to fail. It was going to fail and he would turn solid. He would turn solid and Ruby would tear him apart molecule by molecule, laughing happily as she tortured him to death again and again.

Italy's terror swallowed him and he sprang to his feet. Ruby leaped back, startled by her prey's actions, and Italy ran into the woods. He only made it a few meters before his foot caught in a tree root. He fell with a cry, hitting the ground hard. He shook his head and looked up, to see Ruby grinning at him. Her head tipped mockingly as she looked from the tree root to his face, as if she were daring him to become intangible again. Italy's breath froze in his throat and his body remained solid. Ruby laughed, high-pitched and cruel and—

A large hand grabbed the back of her head, yanking it backwards. The silver light arced up with her face, flailing angrily as it failed to devour anything. Italy slowly recognized his savior as none other than Hazel Rainart, and his mouth fell open. The huge man's muscles quivered with strain and he gritted his teeth, carefully holding Ruby in place. Italy's eyes locked with Hazel's and he thought he saw sorrow there. Although the man's strong frame did not waver, something in his face crumbled and he shut his eyes, gripping Ruby's head firmly.

Italy realized what he was about to do.

" _DON'T!_ "

Hazel hesitated. Ruby's nostrils flared and her eye narrowed. She burst into petals, slipping out of Hazel's grasp, and vanished into the trees. Italy jolted into motion and ran after her, tripping through a tree. Hazel's heavy footfalls did not pursue them and the large man's presence soon faded from Italy's mind, lost in the mantra of  _stop her stop her **stop her**_.

Rather than demolish the trees in her path, Ruby shot between them in a swirl of petals. When Italy caught glimpses of her face among the swarm, he saw she was not smiling. She was  _focused_.

She had a  _target_.

But who?

Italy spotted a tall, black-clothed form up ahead. He saw the eye-like symbol on her back and he skidded to a halt, flailing frantically as he fell to the ground in a heap. Ruby had no such reservations. She sprang at Salem, petals rushing like leaves in high winds and eye aglow with deadly light—

Without even looking her way, Salem reached up and caught Ruby by the throat.

Ruby lurched to a halt, legs flailing and roses flaring desperately around her as she struggled to look at Salem. Black fingernails dug into her flesh, forcing her chin upward. Ruby snarled and twisted like a rabid cat and Salem shifted so she was at Ruby's left— in her blind spot.

Red eyes narrowed, and black energy flared over Ruby's petite frame as a shudder passed through her. The feral, silver glow faded from her eye, leaving confusion and horror behind as Ruby— for lack of a better term— regained consciousness in her enemy's hold.

There was no time to react. There was no time to think. Italy could only act, spurned by the comprehension that  _Rubywasgoingtodie_. Praying to whatever deities were out there, Italy dove at Salem. Rather than pass through her, he halted where the Grimm Queen stood and reformed into solid matter.

Salem's borrowed body exploded around him, torn apart from within.

Ruby and Italy fell to the ground in startled heaps and gaped at the black gunk that rained down on them. Italy shrieked and rubbed at his clothes, desperate to get the substance off. It faded into nothingness but still he screamed, clawing at his skin in order to remove the black gunk that was not really there. Ruby grabbed his hand and he flinched, pulling through her grasp as he frantically crawled backwards.

Ruby's eye welled up with tears and she pulled her hands to her chest. Italy's throat squeezed.

"Sorry." he croaked.

Ruby silently shook her head and rose to her feet. Her shoulders quivered and she grabbed her hood, pulling it over her head. Italy watched her warily, half-expecting her to burst into tears or snap. His heart beat like a trapped hummingbird's wings, frantic and afraid, but he forced himself to speak.

"Um. Do you feel better?" As soon as he asked the question, he wished he could take it back.

Ruby looked past him with her single, teary eye. "No."

" _Ruby!_ "

A splotch of yellow appeared among the trees and Yang stormed into the clearing. A mutilated tree branch fell to her left but she did not react, shoving it aside with enough force that it hit a trunk and shattered. She halted in front of her sister, glowering down at her with burning crimson eyes. Ruby kept her gaze on the ground.

"That was  _stupid_." Yang snarled.

"I know."

"That plan was reckless."

"I know."

"It put you in unnecessary danger."

"I know."

"You could have  _died_."

Ruby cringed. "I know."

Yang hugged her. "Don't ever. Do that.  _Again_."

Ruby hiccuped. "I'm sorry."

Yang's arms tightened. "I mean it. Qrow would throw a fit if he knew you did this because of him."

Ruby flinched. Yang's remorseless scowl remained but she rocked her sister back and forth, laying her chin atop her dark hair.

"Remember how he screamed at me after I took you to that abandoned house? He shouted so loudly it made Dad's anger a breeze. They both would be pissed you ran to face enemies alone because you were  _sad_."

Ruby shrank inside her cloak as if she hoped she could vanish inside it. Italy's heart went out to her but before he could speak in her defense, Romano put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"You are sad, and grieving, and that's  _okay_  but when you feel like that you  _talk_  to people, do you hear me?" Yang demanded. Her voice grew thick as her violet eyes faded to blue. "You talk to  _me_ , because I'm your older sister and I'm  _not_  going to lose you too. Especially not to something fucking  _stupid_  like  _this!_ " She gestured at the demolished trees, hair flickering with flame.

Ruby's face crumpled. "Yang—"

Yang hugged her sister tightly, hiding her face in her dark hair. "You  _scared me_."

The admission was no more than a whisper and Italy turned away. They could not give the sisters the privacy they needed so they stood awkwardly to the side, with Russia, Japan, Pyrrha, Jaune, Winter, Sterlyn, and Australia taking up defensive positions around them.

Canada's eyes flipped wide and narrowed. "We need to keep moving. We're going to draw in Grimm."

Yang pulled herself together and nodded. She gently put an arm around Ruby's shoulders but paused, stepping so her back was to her sister. She lifted Ruby up by her legs and the dark-haired girl yelped, clinging to her sister's shoulders.

"No protests. You're tired." Yang said before Ruby could open her mouth.

Ruby closed her mouth and silently leaned her head against her sister's back. They had to put some distance between themselves and Salem's forces. Salem herself had been taken out— at least, one of her many possessed bodies had— but Italy doubted Ruby had killed all the Grimm and White Fang. Not to mention Hazel…

Italy nibbled his lip, debating whether to tell them about his encounter with Hazel. He decided to keep it to himself. He was not sure he could explain Hazel's actions. He would tell them later, once they stopped for the night.

"How did you find us?" he asked instead. "I thought you were supposed to go west."

Blake shifted uncomfortably.

"This  _is_  west." Weiss said bluntly. "You ran right by us."

Italy flinched. He had almost allowed Ruby to attack them?

"We'll continue west before looping to the south." Winter interrupted. "There are too many enemies in this area for a straight path."

"It's not a great plan but it's the best we have at the moment." England grumbled.

"Fun." Jaune muttered.

"What about Oscar? We can't just leave him here." Nora said.

Ruby shuddered. England's glower darkened. Yang looked similarly murderous.

"We certainly can." Russia said.

"Yes, you can." Oscar agreed. "You  _should_."

"Hey." Australia said sharply. "We're not ditching you because of that meddling old man."

"'Meddling'?" Jaune muttered. "Try  _murderous_."

France tapped his thigh irritably, glock in hand. "Ozpin's actions are  _not_  Oscar's fault. He should not be punished because of Ozpin. Besides, we have the sleeping spell ready—"

"Quiet." Winter interjected sharply. Her icy gaze slipped over the group before it settled on America. "Alfred, you're the one he tried to kill. It's your choice."

America's expression smoothed out. He crossed his arms and drummed his fingers on his forearm, face completely blank. "Do we need Ozpin to get to the Vault?"

Oscar hesitated, then shrugged helplessly. "He won't tell me."

America dragged a hand over his face. "Naturally. You know, if he wants to convince us that we need to put up with his bullshit for world-saving reasons, he's doing an awful job." He knelt in front of Oscar and looked him in the eye. "Jett and Francis are right. You shouldn't suffer because of Ozpin's actions. You didn't ask for any of this. That's why we're going to  _help_   _you_ , okay Oscar?"

Oscar bit his lip, eyes shimmering with unshod tears. "Don't promise."

"I won't." America whispered. He stood up, looming over the boy. "Don't make me regret this, Ozpin."

Oscar's eyes remained hazel.

XXXXXXX

Hazel watched America and the others hurry away, disappearing into the trees. He did not pursue. Instead he exhaled and turned his back, searching for his allies. None of them had been caught in the Silver Eyes' attack. None of them had been close enough. Only Grimm and White Fang members had been torn to shreds. Hazel's haw clenched and he closed his eyes.

_If only I had been faster…_

He shook his head and pushed those thoughts away. He could not regret the past. He could only stride towards the future. Still, he had been close to killing Ruby Rose.

He  _should_  have killed Ruby Rose.

It would be kinder to the girl. Both to her and the allies she could kill.

Ozpin was incredibly lucky. Unlike every other time he had a Silver-Eyed Warrior on hand, he had the perfect counter to them. That nation— Italy, was it?— was so incredibly fortunate to have a Semblance that allowed him to face a Silver-Eyed Warrior with little risk. It was almost like fate.

Was it fate that Gretchen died?

Years-old grief swelled in Hazel's chest but he was used to its presence. He acknowledged it, even though he could neither accept or reject the pain. He  _could_  allow himself to be bitter at Italy for having a Semblance that allowed him to escape a Silver-Eyed Warrior unscathed. He  _could_  hate Ruby Rose for having that vile power that killed countless innocents. But he would not.

These children were all being manipulated by Ozpin and fighting in his war, oblivious to the damage he caused. The countless  _deaths_  he caused.

Ozpin  _knew_  Gretchen's teammate was an awakened Silver-Eyed Warrior.

He knew the girl was unstable and nowhere close to learning how to control her power.

He sent Gretchen's team on that mission— a mission meant for third years,  _not_  first years— anyway. He claimed it was because they asked for the job.

Hazel knew better.

He knew that Ozpin pulled some strings in order to  _test_  his newest Silver-Eyed Warrior.

Gretchen died because of a test her team did not know they were taking and were woefully unprepared for: a test that caused their their teammate to go berserk and turn against them.

For that, Hazel would never forgive Ozpin.

He would never forgive Ozpin for sending a teacher to inform him in his place, holding a small box in her hands.

A foot.

That was all that was left of Hazel's beloved little sister.

A single  _foot_.

At first Hazel had accepted his sister's death as an unfortunate accident. Killed by the Grimm, Ozpin's lackey told him.

Now he knew better.

He knew the  _truth_.

So Hazel would stain his hands blood red, because in the end all his sins would create a better world. He would make sure Ozpin  _never_  got another person's family killed again.

Even if he had to work with the Queen of the Grimm herself to do it.

XXXXXXX

Team RWBY were the first to stand guard that night. Of all people, it was Blake who volunteered them for the job, speaking up before Ruby could crawl beneath her blanket. They sat at the edge of the camp while Francis and Kiku stayed close to the fire. Ruby could hear a couple people shuffling around, unable to sleep, but knew Alfred and Feliciano were not among them.

Lovino had used his Semblance on both to help them sleep but Ruby could hear Feliciano whimpering. She was too numb to feel guilty. She was too numb to feel much of anything.

She tried to sit off to the side but Blake sat right next to her. The Faunus grabbed her sleep before she could move away.

"Don't leave."

Ruby reluctantly sat back down.

"Same for you two." Blake told Weiss and Yang.

Weiss raised an eyebrow but settled down daintily.

Yang plopped down with a soft thud. "What's up, Blake?"

Blake's yellow eyes gleamed in the shadows. "We need to talk about Qrow, Sun, Whitley, and Klein."

Ruby's breath hitched. Yang tensed. Weiss dropped her gaze.

Blake was pale but her ears were flicked back, daring anyone to try to protest. "We— We aren't certain they're dea— ...gone, but we're all upset. That's why we need to talk, not only because of the Grimm but because we are friends and a team, and I'm  _not_  letting any of you suffer alone."

Ruby, Weiss, and Yang could not meet her eyes.

"I'll go first." Her ears flattened against her head. "Sun wouldn't want me to keep it in." She shook herself but her skin was noticeably pale. "Sun is my friend. He helped me even when he just met me. That was the kind of guy he was. He stayed by my side even when I did not want him there. He convinced me to stop running from my mistakes. But I treated him like crap. Not often, but when he offered his help I shoved him away. I— I was  _angry_  that he kept his identity a secret even though I did the same thing. I never got to  _apologize_." Her strong front wavered and her shoulders hunched.

Ruby grasped her hand. "Sun didn't—  _doesn't_  care about an apology. You know how he is. He'd probably poke you in the shoulder and tell you to stop blaming yourself."

Blake twitched. "I'm not—"

"You are blaming yourself for Sun's condition." Yang denied bluntly. "Don't. I'll happily pull a Sun and bug you until you stop angsting."

"I'm not angsting." Blake said but her lips twitched.

"I don't care that my father's dead." Weiss blurted. Her head stayed bowed with her bangs covering her eyes. "When he died, I was more concerned about how Whitley would react than my father's death. I left my brother and Klein behind, even though I promised I wouldn't again. I thought we'd have time to be a family when I came back. But now they're  _gone_." Her shoulders jerked. "Is it because I did not grieve for my father that my brother and Klein were taken too?"

"No." Yang said fiercely. "It's okay that you aren't torn up over your father. He was an asshole who treated your family like crap." She grasped Weiss's hand and rubbed circles on the back of it.

Weiss followed the movement with her eyes before he face crumpled. "Winter's all I have left. What if I lose her too? Or any of you?"

"You won't." Blake promised.

Yang nodded in agreement and pulled Ruby into a one-armed hug. Ruby forced herself not to pull away.

Yang tipped her head back and closed her eyes. "I don't believe they're dead. Until I get undeniable proof I  _refuse_  to believe it. But if… if Qrow  _is_  dead, he'd huff and grumble about us mourning for a crusty old bird like him. He'd want us to keep moving forward and watch out for each other. I'm going to do that and kick Salem's ass for him."

Ruby could almost smile. When the silence stretched on, she realized it was her turn. Swallowing hard, she snuggled close to her sister.

"Uncle Qrow taught me how to fight with a scythe. When I was little, he let me hold the handle of his scythe and 'swing' it around. He did most of the work but I could pretend I was a great warrior like him. Dad was so mad when he found out. I think he banned Qrow from drinking for a month. He kept replacing the alcohol in his flask with apple juice."

Yang chuckled softly. "I remember that."

"Yeah..." Ruby swallowed. "Uncle Qrow was the first person I showed Crescent Rose's blueprints to. He was so happy I chose to use a scythe like him. He pretended to act cool and smug but I knew he was really, really happy. He laughed when I tried to swing it for the first time and cut up Dad's sunflowers." Her eye stung. "He  _can't_  be dead. Not like Mom and Penny."

Her team gathered around her, crushing her in a group hug, and let her cry instead of say the words she couldn't bear to believe.

XXXXXXX

Salem's fingernails tapped on the stone tabletop with tiny clicks as she drummed them on the surface. It was an aggravatingly human habit, but one she found to be beneficial. The rhythmic taps, all one after the other in a smooth pattern, helped focus her. And she  _needed_  that focus, not the rage that begged her to turn on her silent and nervous disciples— Emerald and Watts— and tear them apart for their failure. They had Vale trapped with no way out, yet he managed to slip between her fingers once again  _and_  they had lost Tyrian.

Salem was greatly  _displeased_.

But she could not give in to the dark urges of the Grimm and slaughter them both. She was above such beastly urges, and followers were hard to come by. However, there  _was_  someone that she could make suffer. Two people, in fact.

In front of her lay a map of the Kingdom of Vale. She slid a pale finger over the different towns on the map, ignoring the ones crossed out with red Xs and the ones slashed through with black; the City of Vale among them. With the Relic of Knowledge's help, Salem knew the Kingdom's physiology well and she did not want to risk killing Vale too soon. She doubted Ozpin would allow death to unlock his precious Vault, so she needed to keep the key in one piece until it was no longer useful. Well,  _relatively_  one piece.

Salem touched one of the unmarked towns. It was not the most influential city, but it was not minor either. Vale would certainly feel its fall. It was a pity he had yet to receive her message and surrender herself to him. If he continued this trend, she may have to begin the next stage of her plan early. That was, if he was not captured beforehand.

Though if Salem were honest with herself, she would destroy Earth anyway.

Humanity would die.

Her Grimm would thrive.

From this world to the next.

Salem closed her eyes and smiled as she saw Vale's slumbering face. Apparently the child had difficulty sleeping, so the brown-haired nation— Romano— had to assist him with his Semblance. It was almost amusing. The prideful brother lost his pride, and was humbled enough to admit he needed help.

While the supposed 'humbler' brother did not ask for any aid and laid awake.

Ozpin truly was a blind fool. He feared that Salem would take direct control of Canada when he should be more aware of how she worked by now. If Salem wanted to, she  _could_  exert enough control to make the subtle resentment in Canada flare into a fire. If she wanted to, she could make that rage at the unfairness of it all boil over for just a  _moment_  so he reached out and snapped Vale's thin neck. But she would not, and not just because she needed Vale alive. She preferred subtlety over force until her enemies were sufficiently divided and weakened. And now she had the perfect spy to see how it all unfolded.

Salem almost smiled as she remembered seeing the aftermath of Ozpin's attempt to sacrifice Vale. The child had collapsed in his twin's arms, trembling against him as his body went into shock. He had hysterically whispered what had happened, gripping Canada desperately, so ignorant to the Queen seeing through his brother's eyes. He looked so  _vulnerable_ , with tears in his good blue eye, and Salem knew once she had him, he would break. He would shatter in an instant, and she would  _finally_  win this war.

She just needed a new plan.

Salem looked through Canada's eyes and saw Vale breathing softly. She sent a bolt of fear into her unwitting spy and he shivered, rubbing his chest. He reached out and brushed a protective—  _fearful_ — hand through Vale's hair and Vale murmured softly, relaxing at his touch.

How would Vale react if his brother turned against him? Would he give up like he had so many times before? Or would he fight harder than ever to save his brother and himself? Salem almost wished to find out, but unfortunately Canada did not have special implants like Emerald's. She could not force him to teleport to her side with Vale in tow.

Salem frowned in thought. Her astral form was not strong enough yet to retrieve him when he was guarded so closely, and she could not risk leaving this place to go herself. If she left, it would close itself off, forcing her to waste more time opening it again. She would not allow Ozpin to delay her this time. So no, she could not go herself.

Yet her followers could no longer be trusted with this task. Humans and Faunus were too flawed. They had their own motivations, which often conflicted with hers. Not blatantly, but just enough that they failed her when it mattered most. Even Tyrian had put his desires above her own at the end, choosing to target the nation that cut off his tail instead of Vale. She could not trust any of them to do this.

Only her Grimm were absolutely loyal. Only they were  _directly_  in her control. But none that existed could fit her needs. The Grimm sought to kill, to tear their enemies apart. She did not need a Grimm to destroy, but to  _capture_. The Grimm certainly took people on occasion, but they could not  _hold_  them. Nor could her Grimm teleport her and Grimm pools like she could. No Grimm that existed was made with those specifics in mind.

No Grimm that  _existed_ …

Salem raised her head and looked at the Relic of Creation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who combined two chapters again? *waves*
> 
> I'm really excited for the next one.


	27. A Bitter Fate

"Are you  _sure_  you are alright?"

Denmark sighed in exasperation and clapped Norway on the shoulder with his left hand. "As you can feel, I've completely healed." He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. "See?"

Norway frowned and yanked on his tie, eliciting a yelp from him. From the bed, Uni lifted her head slightly, eyeing them sharply. Seeing Denmark was not in danger, she lowered her head to the bedspread again and went back to sleep. Norway's stomach twisted as the lamplight cast dark shadows in the jagged stump that was her horn.

England was much more proficient in the specific care and health of unicorns than he— he was more of a troll person, personally— but he had noticed a shift in Uni's personality since she lost her horn. It was strange to call a unicorn depressed, but there was little other way to describe the way she listed around Tony, Norway, or Poland's rooms, hardly moving even after they were sure her neck had healed. Norway hoped she was simply trying to adjust to the change and this melancholy was not permanent. It was already going to be hard enough to tell America she had been injured.

Norway shoved those thoughts away and glowered disapprovingly at Denmark. "This is nothing to joke about. Salem tried to infect you with something."

"But she didn't."

"She almost did." Norway said sharply. "If China had not acted so quickly—"

"But he did." Denmark noticed his expression and hastily pulled his tie out of Norway's grasp. "Nor, I'm fine. Really. You need to stop worrying about me."

"Well maybe if you stopped leaping into battle like that I'd stop." Norway said coolly.

Denmark's amiable smile faded and he winced. "Yeah. I've been doing that a lot lately. In my defense, Salem was looming over China. She would've tried to infect him."

Norway's icy anger fizzled out. "Just be more careful. We're not fighting Beowolves anymore."

"Okay." Denmark agreed but Norway was not sure he meant it.

Their bedroom door cracked open. Norway turned, ready to dryly snark at the intruder for entering without knocking, but refrained when Tony's familiar grey head poked through. Red eyes scanned Denmark with disinterest and glanced briefly at Uni with restrained worry before focusing on Norway.

"Norway, I need to speak with you."

Norway noted the lack of curses and insult and inclined his head. He prodded Denmark in the side. "Stay with Uni. And do not get into trouble while I'm gone."

"Hey—"

Norway shut the door behind him, cutting of Denmark's protest.

He followed Tony down to his lab, glancing curiously at the bubbling beakers on a tabletop. Tony did not demand he not touch them, perhaps trusting that Norway knew better than to poke chemicals. A glass column caught his eye and he saw a familiar black substance within it.

The Grimm essence floated in the middle of its prison, bubbling and pulsing like a malicious black swamp. Occasionally it would lash out and strike the glass but the container did not crack in the slightest. Norway must have gasped because Tony looked back at him, red eyes cool and disinterested.

"I extracted that from Denmark's severed limb. It's quite the discovery. Unlike Grimm, which disintegrate upon death, this substance can live outside of a host. Don't worry; it can't get out."

Watching the Grimm essence roil and writhe like a rabid snake, Norway could only take Tony for his word. He still kept his distance from the furious black essence.

The alien stopped in front of a holographic screen filled with strange symbols and began flicking through them. "You can perform magic."

It was not a question but Norway responded anyway. "Yes."

"Like England?"

_Not 'Limey Bastard'_ , Norway noted. "Yes."

Tony flicked to a new screen. "Can you perform the world-traveling ritual as well?"

Norway studied Tony carefully. "...Yes."

Tony stopped shifting through screens. "Based on my observations, you are a very levelheaded nation. You do not tend to overreact as some of your kind are prone to do." Red eyes locked onto Norway. "Which is why I require your assistance. I am creating a bio-weapon to exterminate the Grimm."

Norway understood what he wanted in an instant. He pushed the memory of Denmark's bleeding arm from his mind. "I'm listening."

XXXXXXX

For four days they traveled in peace.

No Grimm lunged for them claws first. No White Fang charged from the woods. No airships dropped enemies on their heads. In some ways the wait was worse than being actively hunted. Paranoia haunted their every step and thy scanned the trees and sky with held breath. Penny was still unresponsive and Oscar had insisted his hands remained bound in metal. Although the others did not treat him like a prisoner, he was guarded at all times and kept away from America.

If a leaf fell unexpectedly, America predicted it would be shot to hell before it could hit the ground. He rubbed his arms and breathed into his hands. The morning was rather chill and it had yet to warm up. He really hoped it was not about to snow. He glanced at Canada and pressed his arm against his twin's. Canada's sunken violet eyes— which were too bright compared to his ashen skin— stared at him questioningly.

"Give me your warmth." America commanded, sticking his hand in Canada's sleeve. His brother's skin was icy to the touch. America pretended it was not a shock and let Canada pull his hand away from his forearm.

"I have no warmth to spare and you have a  _fire Semblance_." his brother said blandly.

" _Maybe_  I do." America sniffed.

He did not mention that his attempt to use it to warm himself left him feeling weak and lightheaded enough that he had to sit down. He had pretended there was a stone in his shoe and made a show of shaking the nonexistent rock out but England's pinched expression suggested he did not believe him.

Something heavy fell over America's shoulders and he flinched, instinctively grabbing Russia's large coat before it could fall to the ground. He glanced uncertainly at its owner and forced his voice to work.

"Thanks?"

Russia said nothing and kept walking. America had to wonder if he had ended up in alternative dimension. Russia had gone from cornering him at every turn to avoiding him like he had a contagious disease.

" _Maybe he feels guilty?"_  Vale offered.

America shrugged helplessly and wrapped Russia's oversized coat around himself. "There's extra room. Anyone else cold?"

" _Me!_ " Nora yelped, shivering in her short-sleeved pink top.

America opened the coat and she darted inside. She stuck her arm down one of the sleeves and considered it thoughtfully.

"This would be the perfect time for us to work on our team attacks, Alfie."

America chuckled. "We already know what we'd do, Nora."

She grinned. "Death and Lightning?"

He grinned back. "Exactly."

"Please tell me that's not your attack name." Australia groaned.

"You, good sir, are a hypocrite." Nora said flatly.

She pointed accusingly at Australia and nearly smacked America in the face with her sleeve. He detangled himself from the coat and carefully pulled it tightly around Nora.

"There. You warm?"

"Yep." Nora said. "But you can use it too, you know. I see you shivering."

"I have my Semblance." America lied.

Nora shot him a skeptical look. "Uh huh."

America felt someone at his shoulder and glanced back, expecting one his bodyguards. Instead Russia stood there, not a hint of a smile on his face. America's spine stiffened and he felt lightning tickle his fingertips. He forced it back.

"Hey. You don't mind Nora using your coat, do you?"

"No." Russia said stiffly. "You and I need to talk."

America's skin prickled and he looked back to see Canada glowering at Russia. His twin had been much more irritable than usual the past few days and now he looked close to committing homicide if Russia sneezed his way. America knew the reason for his twin's increased aggression, as much as he wanted to deny it. It might be best to put some distance between Russia and Canada before someone got mauled.

"Sure. We can talk as we walk. My guards have to stay right with me though." He barely refrained from scowling.

Russia's expression remained unreadable. "It is about your scars."

Despite Russia's low voice, America looked around self-consciously. He only hesitated for a moment. "Jaune, Pyrrha, can you…?"

The two joined him without protest. The others politely gave them a bit of distance but not so much that they would be out of sight— or at risk of missing a silent kidnapping from behind. America crossed his cold arms as he walked and could not resist a frown.

"What is it?"

That sounded rude but America was not in the mood for small talk. A headache was building behind his eyes and he could only hope Salem was not about to attack another town. America shivered and put his hood up. He wanted to ask the others if they were as cold as he was but suspected they were not and he might have a fever.

"I'm sorry."

...And he must be hallucinating as well because there was no way Russia just apologized to him out of the blue.

_"Huh?"_  Vale said.

"Huh?" America repeated. He shook himself. "You already apologized."

"I did." Russia murmured. "But it is not enough."

"You feel guilty." America realized. "I didn't know you were capable of remorse."

Russia winced but America did not take it back. He had seen Lithuania's scars. He knew what Russia had done to Lithuania and the other Baltics.

"I am not heartless." Russia said. "But I admit I was wrong. About you, I mean. I believed you were being stubborn and allowing trivial things to defeat you."

"You thought I was faking it." America translated.

Russia had the decency to look guilty. "I thought if I pushed you hard enough you would return to normal. You did not. And now I know why." His gaze drifted to America's back.

America pulled at his coat irritably. "So now what? You saw my scars and pity me?  _Thanks_."

"I do not pity you." Russia protested. "I understand why you are ashamed." His gaze slid away from America. "You are not the only nation to be scarred by human hands."

America halted in place. Jaune nearly walked into his back but stopped himself just in time. America ignored him and gaped at Russia.

" _What_?"

Russia slowly reached up and unwrapped his scarf, leaving the ends hanging loose over his chest. Underneath the fabric were bandages wrapped from the base of his neck nearly up to his jaw. He silently unwound the thin white strips and revealed a red, jagged scar. It stretched from one side of his neck to the other, and was clearly from his throat being slit. Like it had been slit  _more_  than once.

America reached out and froze, stopping himself from touching the scars. He hated it when people tried to touch his wounds, so Russia might feel the same. Russia grabbed his fingers with surprising gentleness and pulled his hand down, away from the wound.

"I understand your shame. Your anger and disgust that you've been marred. My scar will never heal, even in another thousand years." His eyes darkened with something that might be jealousy. "But you are not jaded and damaged like I am. You may heal someday."

"You're not damaged." America blurted.

Russia's cold violet eyes softened. He reached up and patted America on the head, chuckling when the younger nation scowled and smacked his hand away. "You are such a confusing nation. No wonder you are so aggravating."

America snorted. Russia wrapped his scar again, hiding it from the world. The soft look in his eyes vanished and he smiled widely at Pyrrha and Jaune.

"You will not tell anyone what you have seen."

"Of course not." Jaune squeaked. He cleared his throat and spoke more normally. "We promise we won't."

Russia hummed and strode ahead without another word. America watched him catch up to walk next to Ruby, who did not chat with him like usual and instead stared ahead in silence. She radiated so much misery America was sure Earth could feel it.

" _We should be swarmed by Grimm."_ Vale noted.  _"But we're not. Salem is holding them back."_

_Maybe Salem gave up and decided to become a world-renowned chef instead of destroying humanity?_  America thought sarcastically.

Vale scoffed.  _"And Watts decided to find the cure to all diseases."_

America's lips twitched.  _Mercury is now pursuing his dream career of being a breakdancer._

Vale giggled.  _"Roman's a cop."_

_Emerald's a politician._

Vale cackled.  _"Could you imagine that?"_

_It'd be terrifying,_ America thought solemnly.

His vision wavered and his knees hit the dirt.

America barely felt a lurch in his gut before he lost his lunch on the forest floor. Warm hands held his head as Nevermore descended on the coastal city of Wells, one of the main trading posts of the Kingdom of Vale. America shut his eyes and watched a Phoenix Grimm tear through buildings, leaving flaming wreckage behind. Alphas climbed the town hall, tearing it apart brick by brick. Pain lanced up America's right leg and into his knee. He had just enough time to brace himself and clapped a hand over his mouth.

The  _snap_  of a breaking bone echoed through the desolate trees. America bit back a scream as fire tore through his right leg. He reached out blindly and grasped Canada's hand, squeezing his fingers. Canada twitched but did not pull away, so America leaned against his twin and breathed through his nose, careful not to bite through his lip. Jaune was already at his side, hands glowing, but America could feel his Aura failing to repair the damage. He gently pushed Jaune's hands away.

"Stop wasting energy."

Jaune looked like a kicked puppy.

"It's not your fault." America said tiredly. He breathed slowly into his nose and out his mouth. "Do we have stuff for a splint?"

England crouched next to him and waved his hands. A scan of America's leg hovered above the limb. America questioned England's lack of a magic circle before he noticed the small one carved into the stone held in his palm.

England took one look at the scan and grimaced. "You're not walking on that."

America laid his head back. "Are you my doctor now?"

England scowled. "Your leg is broken in  _three_  places."

"Splint me up and I can hobble." America said tersely.

A vein pulsed in England's forehead.

"We can craft a splint for you." Japan interrupted. "However, you should stay off the limb. Perhaps a stretcher will work."

"I'll carry him." Sterlyn offered. "I'm not as useful in a fight as you—"

"No stretcher. I need to be able to move." America interjected. "Or do you think Salem hobbled me  _now_ —  _four_  days after we beat her again— just for the laughs?"

They stared at him in silence, slowly comprehending his meaning.

"Get Alfred mobile." England ordered.

Every second it took them to bind his leg was agony, both physical and mental. Thank goodness the bone did not break through the skin or need to be set. They were able to splint his leg into a makeshift cast of metal, wood and cloth. It was gaudy and not very accommodating but America could walk and pretend he was not hurting every step.

" _You're probably doing more damage."_ Vale mentioned.

_I'm a sitting duck and a liability if they have to carry me_ , America argued.  _Besides, if I heal up after this I won't have any lasting damage._

If he did not heal it was likely because he'd be dead with Vale but he did not bring that up. Instead America gritted his teeth and hobbled along, blocking out most of the pain with the painkillers Blake offered and sheer stubbornness. Canada hovered at his side and America patted his twin's arm lightly.

"Stop looking at me like that. It's fine. I'm used to it."

Canada's eyes grew shadowed, and for a moment America thought he saw a flicker of red in the violet depths. "You shouldn't  _have_  to be used to it."

There was no denying the vitriol in his gentle twin's tone. Unsure of what to say, America patted his arm again, hobbling with Cobalt Striker in hand and his tense friends gathered around them.

XXXXXXX

It took five hours.

_Creak. Creak. Creeeeaaaak._

America shivered, looking uncomfortably up at the groaning tree branches above. The temperature had not warmed at all. In fact, it seemed to be growing colder. The sky was deceptively blue, but the air was crisp and chilled, leaving him shivering more than before.

If only the fire in his leg could become real flames to warm him up. Instead the pain was slowly growing worse. America bit back a groan and grimaced at his leg. He had a feeling his toes were a nice shade of purple in his shoes. And maybe his ankle. And his leg. He took a step and nearly ate a tree when he tripped.

Pyrrha caught him before he got wood splinters in his face. She took one look at his ashen skin and frowned. "We need to stop."

The others immediately stopped walking and gathered around them. America was too busy gritting his teeth to protest and allowed Pyrrha to help him sit. He glanced at her hand and saw her fingers were white in his. He hastily released her.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. I barely felt it."

Pyrrha sounded more concerned than reassuring and America realized she'd figured out how much his strength had waned. He tried to smile but could only grimace. He took a breath and fanned his face with his hand.

"I'm feeling kinda bad." he mentioned.

"No shit." Yang said. "You're paler than a corpse."

"Thanks." America said dryly.

England felt his forehead and cursed. "You have a fever."

America sighed and closed his eyes, disliking the feeling of the cold palm against his clammy forehead. "Do you have a fever spell too? Cool."

England's teeth ground audibly. "Lift your head."

America did as he asked, flinching when England's hands touched his exposed throat. His brother's hands were icy cold compared to his burning skin but America tried not to wiggle, too tired to deal with England's ire. England gently felt his throat and his green eyes sharpened.

"Your glands are swollen."

"And my leg is broken. Want to make any other obvious statements, Doctor Bro?" America rasped.

England ignored him, looking to Winter. "We need to carry him. Start making a stretcher."

"No." America protested. "I can walk on my own. I won't be dead weight if we're attacked."

England's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You won't be 'dead weight'. And even if you were, we would bloody well protect you, you daft  _git_ —"

**_Pop_.**

It was a soft sound.

A small sound.

A  _deceptive_  sound, cute and almost amusing when heard, like the tiny squeaks of a baby mouse.

Unknown to the listener, this baby mouse was being devoured by a snake.

Because thirty feet in front of them— accompanied by a small, quiet  ** _pop_** — appeared a Grimm.

The Grimm stood more than five times as tall as Russia and was four times as wide. America stared at the green in its torso and realized he was seeing the trees through its skin. The black stripes were its  _ribs_ , its chest only covered by the thinnest layer of almost-translucent flesh.

Its two, four, six,  _seven_  arms were contorted and thin, the bones of its elbows jutting out through its stretched flesh. Each sword-length finger twitched and contorted, bending forward and backwards in a way that would break human bones. Two limbs protruded down each of its sides, with three sticking grotesquely out its back like deformed wings. It had no legs. Instead it floated, with tattered cloak-like tendrils trailing below it. Its head was humanoid, and as America watched it grinned wider, wider,  _wider_ —

Its mouth split in half vertically, and so did its throat and chest, its ribs parting like gaping, sharp-toothed jaws. America thought he saw a green stone in its gullet but was soon distracted by the harsh rasping of its breath. It hovered in place, shifting hypnotically back and forth like it was being pushed by a gentle wind, and America realized what its shape reminded him of.

A cage.

A floating, living, humanoid cage.

This Grimm was not only meant for killing. It was made for  _capture_.

It was made for  _him_.

The Grimm stopped swaying, going stock still.

Its tendrils shot toward America.

Pyrrha dove in front of him but the tendrils vanished.

The Grimm  _vanished_.

America blinked and his vision was black.

Smooth, cloth-like tendrils wrapped around his waist and he was lifted off the ground. He gasped, eyes going round as the tendrils dragged him towards it. He struggled frantically, sparking and igniting, but a tendril wrapped around his right leg and  _pulled_.

The snap was audible and white bone broke through skin.

America's scream startled even himself. Red joined the sea of black and Canada shot by him. His hockey stick sliced through the tendrils holding his twin and America hit the dirt— broken leg first. America's vision went white and when it returned Pyrrha was dragging him back and everyone was fighting. Spells and bullets bounced off of its near-translucent flesh.

Dagger-like claws appeared at the ends of its tendrils and it stabbed at Pyrrha. She raised her shield to block and gasped as the dagger sank through, glancing off her Aura. She immediately disengaged, backing behind England as he blasted the Grimm. The spell dissipated against its cloak and it began swaying in the air, yet it made no attempt to avoid the attacks coming its way. It's tendrils swayed with it, twitching and flicking like living vines.

Then they shot outwards like beams of a dark sun. They went through Italy, while Japan and Winter dodged, but too many of their group were hit. Heavy hitters like Russia and Jaune were thrown off their feet, the latter with his shield impaled by three tendrils. The knight sliced the tendrils stuck in his weapon but the Grimm did not appear to notice. White light flickered over America's skin and he saw others were the glowing as well.

" _Don't_  overexert yourself." Pyrrha shouted at Jaune.

Jaune grimaced but let his Semblance fade, falling back to observe who may need his help. Tendrils chased Japan, Weiss, Ren, and Blake, following them like homing missiles. Japan cut his to pieces and Weiss deflected hers with a glyph while Blake forced hers to stab a tree. One caught Ren's wrist but Nora's hammer smashed them to dust.

The Grimm did not notice. Did it not feel pain?

America had no time to think about it as the tendrils whipped towards Oscar. He deflected them with Cobalt Striker and settled defensively in front of the boy.

"Romano, get him out of here."

Romano swallowed, his relief obvious on his face. "D-Don't tell me what to do."

Despite that, he jogged over to Oscar, grabbing his arm with the one not holding Penny.

Oscar's eyes glowed gold. "Release me, Romano. Let me fight."

" _Fuck off_ , Ozpin." Romano snapped.

He yanked Ozpin away into the trees with Penny over his shoulder. Sterlyn hesitated but followed after, knowing he would only get in the way but also leaving Romano, Oscar, and Penny with at least  _some_  protection.

Blackness moved and America backflipped away from the tendrils, cringing as he almost landed on his right leg. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug but it could not completely dull the pain. It just helped enough to make sure he'd  _survive_. Hopefully.

_Vale, what's this Grimm?_

" _I don't_   _know."_  She sounded disturbed.  _"I've never seen anything like it before. I think Salem made it using Creation."_

America watched as Russia's axe did nothing to harm the Grimm. Australia's shots faded harmlessly. Winter's glyphs did not affect it. Weiss's Knight failed to stab the beast. Her armored summon vanished in a flare of light and she collapsed, exhausted. Thankfully there was no accompanying flare of bluish-white to signify dissipating Aura. Yet.

"Damn it." America breathed.  _If we knew its weaknesses we could have Jaune boost whoever could kill it—_

France sprang in front of America and the dagger-tipped tendrils bounced off him, shooting back at the Grimm. They skidded harmlessly off the Grimm's skin like water and oil. Even its own attacks could not harm it. America decided that the Relic of Creation would be the first one he'd destroy if he got the chance.

The Grimm vanished and reemerged in front of him. Blake appeared out of nowhere and grabbed him, shoving him and herself out of the way. America burned a few of the tendrils but the Grimm simply regrew them, giving chase. America's vision blackened briefly and he saw an afterimage of himself and Blake get impaled through their chests. England, Yang, and Canada's screams cut off as they realized it was not them, but America did not blame them for their reactions. It was kinda creepy seeing a shadowy version of himself and Blake die.

The Grimm paused, blinking in confusion, but realized it had not accidentally slaughtered its target. Tendrils gave chase, while more kept the others at bay. Ice appeared on the Grimm's arms but it shook the frost off like it was an annoying gnat. Bullets did not work, Dust did not work, spells did not work, and Semblances  _did not work_.

_What the hell do we do?_

Blake halted and cut up a swarm of tendrils. "Alfred, run!" she commanded.

"It's  _after me_. It'll  _follow_." America snapped back.

With the Grimm's ability to teleport, not even Ruby might be fast enough to outrun it. He saw the realization cross Blake's face. She clenched her teeth and shoved the tendrils away. Her weapon glowed purple and she slashed the air, releasing a wave of solid violet light. It cut through the tendrils but dissipated when it hit the Grimm's main body. America noticed the Grimm's torso had closed. Could that be its weakness? Did it have to be attacked from the inside?

A shadow fell over him and Blake. They looked up to see a giant hand. They dodged, but the hand was more over Blake than him and she did not have enough time. It slammed down on her, covering almost her entire body as it crushed her into the dirt. Blake's mouth gaped open in a soundless scream and her Aura faded with a flare of purplish light.

Roses sped into view and Ruby appeared, scythe trailing behind her. She spun in the air and slashed at the Grimm's arm. Though America saw no wound, the Grimm flinched, hastily pulling the limb back to it.

Ruby dragged Blake up and shoved her behind her. "Leave!"

Blake did not argue. She dashed into the trees, knowing Jaune had to focus on those that still had Aura. America prayed she would not try to shoot the Grimm from the shadows. If it located her among the trees—

To his left, Canada gaped in pain, clutching at his chest. He faltered and fell to his knees.

The tendrils sprang for him like sharks smelling blood.

" _Mattie!_ " America screamed.

He lunged for his twin, grasping his arm to pull him out of danger.

And the tendrils spread out like a net, encasing them both.

They wrapped around the twins like a spider's webbing, yanking them together in ropes of living darkness before dragging them through the air. The Grimm's torso split open again, wider this time, revealing the empty space inside. There was more than enough room in there. In fact, America guessed five people Russia's size could fit rather comfortably. Certainly enough room for two.

America struggled and felt Canada do the same, but every time they killed a tendril ten more took their place. Too soon they were in front of the gaping chest of the beast, and America realized they were screwed.

A hand shoved them inside and the ribcage closed around them.

Canada landed on America's leg and he bit back a scream. Canada immediately began slashing at the cage, each movement strong but frantic. America forced himself up and joined his twin. A glint of green caught his eye and he saw a familiar stone at the back of the Grimm's throat.

He ignored his sinking heart and pounded at the Grimm's ribs but despite its near-transparent appearance, the membrane covering its torso was stronger than steel. He ignored the pain in his right leg and sat back, kicking the Grimm with his right. He added fire and lightning to every kick but the living barrier between them and freedom remained. America ground his teeth and unsheathed Cobalt Striker, hacking at the Grimm. It did not even nick its skin.

Skin that was shimmering with familiar reddish-black energy.

America's heart turned to ice.

"ENGLAND,  _IT'S GOING TO TELEPORT!_ "

England's expression went blank before horror crept across his face.

" _Ruby!_ " Italy shouted.

Ruby's eye widened and went hard. She shifted so Crescent Rose was horizontal and Italy jumped onto it. There was the bang of a recoiling weapon and Ruby swung. Italy flew at the Grimm, screaming in terror, and passed harmlessly through the tendrils. He hit the Grimm's chest and clung to it, tears streaming down his cheeks. His form flickered into and out of solidity as the tendrils slashed at him.

" _HURRY!_ " Ruby screamed.

Italy squeezed his eyes shut, trembling visibly, but pressed his hand to the Grimm's membrane. His hand sank through and his eyes snapped open, meeting America's. America grabbed Canada's hand with his right one, and Italy grabbed his left hand and  _pulled_.

America felt his body shift from solid to ghostly.

His right hand slid through Canada's.

America had a moment of horrified clarity before he slipped out of the Grimm's cage with Italy, hitting the ground beneath it. Rose petals surrounded him and when he regained his bearing, he was falling into a tree. Pain lanced through his broken leg and he howled, crumpling to the floor. He forced himself up and staggered towards the sounds of battle. Ruby grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

"Mattie." he panted. " _Mattie_."

Ruby hesitated.

America ignored her and blasted himself forward with wind. He landed on his left leg and did it again, pushing himself back to the fight. The Grimm was still flickering, but now it seemed to be trying to resist its teleportation, scanning the area frantically. It seemed that for all its might, it could not undo when and where it would teleport. It completely ignored the people attacking it, though it did float far upward to avoid Italy, hovering where they had little hope to reach it.

America could see Canada in the Grimm's chest. His brother slashed at the cage, his arms covered with frost, but his movements slowed as he realized how futile his efforts were. Violet eyes met blue and Canada's mouth moved, forming unspoken words.

" _I'm sorry_."

America's pain was forgotten.

His veins burned with wildfire.

The blue sky turned black.

Red eyes locked onto him and the Grimm's tendrils whipped towards him. America did not move, and instead screamed at the beast.

" _Let my brother go!_ "

He blasted the monster with fire and it howled, tendrils burning. America caught a glimpse of his brother's face but when Canada saw him, he nodded frantically. Canada could heal from burns, so America did not let himself hesitate. He burned the Grimm again, incinerating more tendrils, and it shrieked, slashing blindly. America dodged the daggers and landed on his bad leg. It buckled beneath him and hit the ground with a cry of pain.

Yang jumped between him and the Grimm, punching tendrils aside and burning more with her fiery Aura. She raised her right fist, elbow bent, and her arm sparked. Yang jerked and clasped at the limb as pain flashed across her paling features. The tendrils shot towards her, daggers primed.

Blood sprayed, coloring the leaves red.

And Blake fell.

America caught a brief glimpse of the red blossoming on her chest before she hit the dirt with a hollow thud. She did not get up.

The reddish-black light covering the Grimm flared, hiding it from view.

And just like that, it was gone.

America stared at the place where the Grimm had been. Where  _Canada_  had been.

They were gone.

The Grimm had teleported away with Canada inside it.

His brother was  _gone_.

An agonized scream built in his throat but he dare not release it. He ignored his burning leg and dragged himself towards Blake, who still had not risen. Was she unconscious?

Yang was already at her partner's side but rather than crouch next to Blake, she stood over her, expression blank and eyes round. Why wasn't she doing anything? Why wasn't she trying to rouse Blake? Why—?

America saw why.

He opened his mouth to scream for England or Jaune, but he knew it was already too late.

Blake lay where she had fallen with a large gash carved into her torso.

Her yellow eyes stared lifelessly at the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Here we are. This was planned for a long, and I mean a LONG time.
> 
> I know it's not Friday yet but I really wanted to upload this chapter to see your reviews.
> 
> See you Monday.


	28. Goodbye

"Blake?"

Ruby could barely hear her own voice past the roaring in her ears. The world had been knocked off its axis and everything was  _wrong_. The sky was blue and the grass was green, but everything was  _wrong_. This  _dream world that was not real_  was wrong and awful, and Ruby refused to believe in it.

It was not real.

It was not real.

It was  _not_   _real_.

Blake was not moving. Her black hair scattered around her head like a dark halo. Her amber eyes were wide open, as blank as a plain of snow. Her black top was jaggedly torn and her white coat was stained with red. She lay on her back, one hand poised up by her shoulder while the other still gripped Gambol Shroud at her side. Her flesh was pale, her lips tinged grey. Not blue, like she was cold, but the lifeless pallor of death.

Why wasn't she moving?

Snapping out of her paralysis, Yang jerked forward with a scream.

" _Help her!_ "

Jaune was already at Blake's side, his hands glowing white. That was good. Jaune would fix things. His Semblance would replenish Blake's broken Aura and the gash in her chest would heal.

The glow did not stretch from Jaune's hands.

"What are you  _doing_?" Yang demanded.

Jaune swallowed. His glowing hands trembled. "It's not sensing Aura to attach to."

"Of course it's not." Yang snapped. "Blake's  _out_  of Aura. Replenish it already!"

Jaune looked at her, and shook his head slowly. Ruby found herself entranced by the movement. Back and forth. Back and forth. So slowly...

"That's... not..."

Ren crouched next to Blake and put two fingers to her throat. His hand slipped away from her  _pale-pale-pale_  skin and fell limply to his side. "Arthur, there's no..." He swallowed and began again. "I... I don't feel..."

Arthur appeared almost gaunt as he waved his glowing staff, the haunted look in his eyes making them seem sunken and hollow. The diagnostic spell swept over Blake and rose above her. A splotch of red carved deep into her chest, straight through her heart as it cleaved the organ in two. Her heart was not beating. Ruby waited for the organ to pulse, holding her breath until her lungs burned.

Once Blake's heart beat, she would breathe.

She just had to wait.

Any second now, Blake's heart would beat.

Any second now.

It would beat.

_Any_  second now...

Ruby grew lightheaded and coughed, taking in a gasping breath. Her gaze locked frantically on the image of Blake's internals. Blake's heart remained still.

Arthur let the spell fade. "I'm sorry."

He stumbled away from Blake as if he could not bear to look at her, the shock in his green eyes giving way to helpless anger. Yang's eyes turned blue, and all the fury drained from her frame as her limbs went slack. Weiss sank to the forest floor with her rapier pointed uselessly to the side. The tip nearly stabbed into the dirt but she did not appear to notice.

Ruby's eye froze over like a lake in the coldest winter. Nothing escaped its chilling depths, not anger, not tears, not Silver Eyes, not  _anything_  at all. She could feel the ground beneath her and it was her only proof this world was still there. Everything else dissolved like it had never existed, leaving her in a hollow expanse with nothing to cling to.

Yet despite being trapped in the world of numbness she floated in, her senses betrayed her. They left her stranded in this cruel dream world where Yang was moaning lowly with Blake's head in her lap as her eyes flashed between red and blue. Where Jaune tried and failed to use his Semblance again and again. Where Weiss stared blankly at nothing. Where Nora cried quietly as she covered her ears.

Where Blake was— was—

"Where's Salem?" Arthur's shout crawled through the blankness, unwanted and out of place in this terrible dream. " _Where is she?_ "

Ozpin briefly met his gaze before lowering his head. "I… don't know. I'm sorry."

Arthur's jaw quivered and Ruby distantly remembered Matthew had been taken. That memory failed to jolt her out of the haze and she watched Arthur's reaction with apathetic detachment. A pale hand clenched and she wondered if Arthur would slug Ozpin. Feliciano grabbed his arm before he could, not to restrain him but to gain his attention.

"England." the brown-haired nation said timidly. "I— I know this isn't the time but there was a green stone like ours in the Grimm."

Arthur's anger washed away, leaving only horror behind. "A stone? Like ours?" he stammered. "Like ours...?" He trailed off, expression going blank. "Show me your necklaces."

Feliciano and Kiku pulled the chains from inside their shirts, revealing identical green pendants. Ivan did not move, expression blank. Arthur stared at him, and Ruby did as well, waiting for him to act and show his necklace that was very important though Ruby could not remember why because  _she could not think_. Ivan met their gazes steadily.

"You lost your necklace." Arthur said faintly. "No— You  _removed_  it. You  _had_  to have removed it. I enchanted those chains so they would not break. You removed your necklace and they found it. That's how they kept finding us. It wasn't the Grimm or a Relic. They were using  _your necklace_  to track us. That's how that  _thing_  teleported here."

Ivan's disinterested expression faltered. "I—"

Yang threw herself at him with a scream. Jaune jolted and caught Blake before she could fall, setting her gently on the ground. Tears stained his cheeks as his hands glowed, but no matter how long he held them to Blake's chest, her wound did not fade. Because there was no Aura to replenish. There was no soul  _left_. Weiss ran over to Blake and grabbed her from Jaune, mumbling softly as she laid her onto her back.

"CPR. We have to try CPR."

Weiss carefully positioned Blake and pressed her mouth to hers. She turned her head to listen for breath and began pressing Blake's chest, counting under her breath. She breathed again as Yang punched Ivan in the jaw, hair alight as she screamed wordlessly at him.

Ivan did not fight back, nor did he dodge her blows. Ruby got the sense he was letting Yang attack him. She sat on the ground and pulled her legs to her chest as she watched Weiss try to resuscitate Blake. On the third attempt, Winter grasped her sister's hands and pulled them away.

"No." Weiss snapped, trying to yank her hands free. "I have to keep trying. Jaune,  _keep trying_. We can't give up. Blake wouldn't give up—"

Winter pulled her sister into a hug, hand settled gently on the back of Weiss's head. "She's  _gone_ , Weiss."

Weiss stopped resisting. She slumped against her sister, eyes glazed, and slowly they began to leak tears. Ruby rocked back and forth on the ground and covered her ears, blocking out the sound of Yang and Ivan's fight. Deep in her chest something heavy emerged. With every breath it grew bigger, swelling until she could barely breathe at all.

" _FIGHT BACK!_ " Yang screamed.

Her next blow caught Ivan in the throat but rather than recoil, he froze in place. A dark aura gathered around him and his lips twitched into a smile.

" ** _Kolkolkol_**..."

Feliciano gasped, skin going white. Jett backed up a pace, reaching for his daggers. Ruby did not move. She rocked back and forth and back and forth, watching as Ivan caught Yang's robotic fist. Her sister struggled, screaming obscenities and threats at him, but Ivan did not appear to notice. Instead his smile grew wider and wider, never reaching his dark eyes—

Kiku lunged.

He grabbed Ivan, shoving them both away from Yang…

And the two nations vanished in a flare of green light.

Yang regained her footing and gaped at the spot the two nations once occupied. Her eyes turned blood red. "COME BACK HERE YOU COWARD! COME BACK! COME!  _BACK!_ "

She punched a tree, sending a spray wooden shrapnel through the air. Red eyes scanned the empty air and locked onto Blake. Yang stormed towards her and Weiss stepped between them but Yang shoved her aside. She halted over Blake and collapsed to her knees, legs splayed into a painful W.

"Come back." she whispered. Tears trickled down her cheeks. "Come back. Blake,  _please_   _come back_."

Weiss sat behind Yang and hugged her, holding her up as she slumped forward and sobbed. Ruby distantly heard Feliciano crying. Next to the Italian, Alfred was staring at the place the Grimm had vanished, eye glassy with unshod tears. The pressure in Ruby's chest remained but something new and  _ugly_  twisted in her gut.

"This is your fault."

Alfred flinched. Ruby did not notice the silence that fell over them until she heard the tree branches creak above. She stared unflinchingly at Alfred, chest heavy and veins alight with rage. The desire to hurt the world— to hurt  _someone_ , to make them hurt like  _she_   _was hurting so she wouldn't have to acknowledge her grie_ — overwhelmed her and she glared at him.

"First Amber, then Ozpin, then Whitley and Klein and Sun and— and Uncle Qrow. And now Blake— Now Blake is—" The ugly feeling in her chest bubbled over and she screamed at him. " _How many more_   _people are going to die for you?!_ "

Alfred shut his eye and lowered his head.

Ruby didn't care. She did not care about anything except the rage— which she could handle. Which she could  _use_  so she wouldn't have to grie— "I was with Neo when she died. And you know what she said to me?"

Alfred stared at her dully, eyes a pale, sickly blue, but Ruby still  _did not care_. She wanted him to flinch. She wanted him to  _hurt_. So she took all the fragmented emotions and thoughts tearing her up inside and  _threw_  them at him because if he was hurting then maybe she wouldn't be.

"She wanted to tell you she was sorry." Ruby spat. "She was thinking about  _you_  as she was  _dying alone and in pain_. She probably thought you were going to come save her—"  _I **couldn't save Blake** —_ "— but you know what? You don't save anyone. All you do is  _kill them!_ "

Alfred did not speak a word. He stared at her like he did not see her. Of course he did not see her. Why would he care about short mortal lives? What did he know about loss? He was an immortal nation. He  _never_  lost a loved one. He  _never_  lost friends. Blake was just another mortal he would soon forget. Ruby felt no burn from Silver Eyes, but she did not need its power now to be cruel.

"You couldn't save  _her_  either." she hissed. "Her  _or_  Matthew."

Alfred turned white.

" _Silence_."

The iciness of Arthur's voice sliced through Ruby's rage, leaving her feeling empty and cold. He pushed himself between Alfred and Ruby, towering over her, and she was once-again reminded he was more than the simple twenty-three year-old man he appeared to be. In that moment Ruby knew that he could strike her down if he so pleased, and the waves of violet rage tainting the air around him suggested he was  _this_  close. Yang spoke before he could decide.

"Ruby." she said quietly. "That was cruel. Alfred just lost his brother."

At the mention of Matthew, Alfred shuddered and put his head in his hands, shoulders quaking.

Yang did not appear to notice. "And this  _isn't_  his fault."

Ruby flinched at her sister's words.

Yang gently straightened Blake's hair so it was laying neatly around her face. She twitched and clutched at her prosthetic arm and her features crumpled. "It's not his fault. It's  _my fault_. She was protecting  _me_."

"No." Ruby protested, but it sounded weak even to her.

In her mind's eye, she saw Yang falter as her arm sparked. She saw Blake leap between Yang and the Grimm, even though Yang still had Aura and Blake did not. Something in her throat tightened. Blake did not need to protect Yang—

Ruby blinked and noticed Winter was with Weiss and Yang, gently brushing a bit of dirt from Blake's pale face. Her expression was cold and her proud, stiff shoulders were burdened with sorrow. Yet she did not let that sorrow hinder her as she spoke.

"We need to bury her."

Winter said it with the quiet, reserved grief of someone who had no choice but to bury comrades before. Despite that, her words angered Ruby because she was not as close to Blake as them. How  _dare_  Winter take charge as if Blake was her teammate and friend who was dead and gone and  _never coming back_. Yang lashed out before Ruby could.

" _No_!" she snapped. "We're not burying her here. She— She needs to go home." Her anger wavered, broken by grief. "We need to get her  _home_."

Even Arthur's cold visage cracked.

It was Ren who said what everyone else could not. "Yang… we can't carry her with us."

Somewhere deep inside herself, Ruby understood. They had days, maybe  _weeks_  to travel before they reached Vale. But her heart was too swollen and hurting to let logic overwhelm its—  _sorrow_ — pain.

"We're not leaving her." she whispered, echoing Yang. "We're not burying her alone."

Ren's calm mask wavered and he looked away. His bangs fell over his eyes.

"Cremation."

It was not Oscar, but Ozpin who spoke. His golden eyes never strayed from the ground, and the air of sorrow around him was even more suffocating than Winter's. He looked up, and Ruby could not bear to see the grief on his face— grief that paled in comparison to her own.

"We'll cremate her and take her home." Ozpin whispered.

Weiss lowered her head, hand pressed to her mouth as her shoulders shook.

Yang wiped at her dull blue eyes and nodded.

Ruby said nothing, raising her gaze to the cruel blue sky. She tried to tell herself that Blake would want them to keep moving forward. They could not remain here. Doing that would lead them all to their deaths. They had to continue to Vale.

She tried to tell herself that, but all she could think about was one thing.

Blake would not come with them.

XXXXXXX

They built a funeral pyre and burned her. As the flames reached towards the starless sky and swept over Blake Belladonna's peaceful face, Yang could not bear to watch. She turned away and robotically hugged her crying sister, using her body to cover the sight of the flickering flames. Yang kept her back to the pyre, feeling the heat across her shoulders, but did not look. She  _could not_  look, could not cry, could not do anything but think one thought over and over and over again.

_I failed her._

They gathered the ashes into an empty jar, small enough to fit into Yang's bag. Feliciano had painted the outside, hiding what lay within, but as Yang looked at it, denial left her numb. This could not be her partner's remains. Blake was smiling, and reading, and being her dry self just hours ago. She was living, breathing,  _alive_.

It was not until Weiss handed her Gambol Shroud that grief tore through her like a tornado, leaving broken wreckage in its wake. She collapsed with the weapon in her hands, fat tears falling thickly down her face. She sobbed into the dirt, hardly feeling Weiss and Ruby's warmth as they cried with her. The nations, Winter, Sterlyn, and Oscar stayed back and JNPR lingered close but the team did not intervene in their grief. Nora hugged both Ren and Pyrrha and possessively gripped Jaune's sleeve, keeping them close with no intention of letting them go.

She might not have a choice someday.

Like Yang didn't.

Blake was alive.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Blake was dead.

She would never read books again. She would never laugh again, or give sarcastic remarks, or shoot her team dry looks. She would never speak passionately about Faunus rights or meet with Ilia again. She would never hover awkwardly during social interactions or talk stiffly but lovingly about her family again. Yang would never do anything with Blake again. Never, ever again.

The leaves rustled in the trees, making the branches creak. A few of the funeral-goers shivered but none spoke. None asked to move on. Yang gently tucked Blake's ashes into her bag and zipped it.

A leaf fluttered down in front of her face and she watched it drift to the ground. She looked up, hair shifting in the wind, and stared out into the dark forest around them. There were no cliffs nearby. No lakes or rivers or mountains. Only endless trees that soon melded into one another.

Yang could not let herself forget this place.

"We need a stone marker." she said.

"...Okay." Jaune agreed.

They found a large rock and Arthur molded into the appropriate shape. Yang took Jett's knife and carved letters into the stone. It would not be Blake's grave, but a memorial. Perhaps Blake did not need one, but Yang could not let herself lose this place. The calligraphy was jagged and messy because her hand shook but Yang would not let anyone else help. When she was finished she stood, and looked down at the empty grave.

"Can I have a moment?" Yang whispered.

The others retreated just into the trees. Yang turned her back on them and looked down at the grave, tracing the letters with her thumb.

_Blake Belladonna._

_Huntress, Leader, Daughter, Friend._

" _Courage does not mean you don't get afraid. It means you don't let fear stop you."_

It was a lesson that took Blake a while to learn. At times she let her fear overcome her, running from her problems and leaving everyone she loved behind. But she learned. She grew. She changed.

She was supposed to change the world.

She was  _going_  to change the world.

She never got the chance.

"You promised you wouldn't leave again."

Yang's eyes were dry as she whispered the words. All her tears were spent. Her grief faltered, unable to find fuel, and bitter anger crawled through the cracks. It was not  _fair_. There was still so much Blake was meant to do. She was supposed to defeat Salem with them, and Adam and the White Fang, and bring equality to her people.

But she was gone.

Only her goals— her  _dreams_ — remained.

Yang was not a Faunus. She could not lead them to gaining equal rights. It was not her place.

But there was something she  _could_  do.

There was one mission of Blake's that she could see through to the end.

Yang put Gambol Shroud on her back and laid a hand atop the stone.

"I'll finish this fight for you." she promised.

Her hand slipped from the gravestone and she turned her back, leaving the memorial behind.

XXXXXXX

A single memorial stone sat in the lonely forest, already covered by falling leaves. Four people approached the site, but only one moved towards it, having seen the name upon it before his companions. Booted footsteps approached the grave, halting before it, then black-clothed knees hit the dirt.

"No..."

He traced the letters on the stone and lowered his head, punching the ground with a scream. It echoed through the desolate forest, fading away, and he slumped against the marker, ripping his mask from his face. The name did not change, and deep inside his hardened heart, something grew cold.

"Blake." Adam whispered.

All the hatred he felt for his former friend receded, leaving only pain. His companions realized what had happened and gave him space to grieve without a single comment of any kind. He hated working with these humans but he supposed they had some merit, at least.

Memories of simpler times swam through his mind, times before Atlas betrayed him and their friendship fell apart. How could this happen? How could he  _let_  this happen? If only he had arrived sooner—

_No._

Blake was an enemy of himself, and Salem. Adam could not move against the Queen of the Grimm, not even for her. He  _had_  to keep forging ahead in order to see her plan to remake this world come into fruition. It was the  _only_  way for Faunus to be free of humanity. Yet so many of their brothers and sisters did not live to see it…

Adam remembered the brothers and sisters of the White Fang he lost just days ago. Most of the White Fang he'd positioned near the temple were dead, their bodies eradicated, because they were too loyal to him to have abandoned their posts. All of them slaughtered, hunted down like  _animals_  by one human girl.

Ruby Rose, Blake's so-called 'benevolent' leader, who one quivering recruit saw devour her squadmates with her silver light and leave nothing behind. There were no bodies to bury, and hardly anyone left to mourn the fallen.

And yet the humans claimed  _Salem_  was the monster.

When Salem won, humanity would be eradicated, and the Faunus would be the dominant— the  _only_ — sapient species on Remnant. That was why he had to see this through to the bitter end. He had gone too far to turn back now. He  _had_  to keep going and work with Blake's murderer for the good of the Faunus, or everything he had done would be for nothing.

Blake would understand.

She would understand why he did this, why he chose this, why he could not turn back...

...He knew she wouldn't.

Adam returned his mask to his face and rose to his feet.

"Goodbye, Blake."

He turned his back on the grave and rejoined Hazel, Roman, and Mercury, and they continued hunting their prey.

XXXXXXX

Canada lurched into consciousness with a gasp. Chains rattled above his head and around his ankles, clanking loudly in the silence. He was stretched out into a giant X in midair with a blindfold covering his eyes. His shirt and shoes were gone, and although his jeans remained, they were torn just above his knees.

There was no grogginess to give him a brief reprieve of ignorance before he was struck by harsh reality. He knew what had happened. He knew who held him. His chest heaved with every breath, filling the tomb-like room with the sound of his panicked pants. Except beneath his gasps there was another noise.

Something rustled and scraped softly along stone. The noise was accompanied by low clicks, chatter-like and sharp. The image of giant mandibles implanted itself in Canada's mind and he forced himself to exhale, picturing a serene, snowy forest instead.

Something touched his foot and crept up his calf. Legs pricked at his exposed skin, circling around the limb and up around his waist. It was cold and slimy to the touch, almost like mucus. Whatever it was, it was big enough to wrap around him three times, looping widely from his shoulders down to his foot.

The thing clicked next to his ear and something sharp closed around his jugular. Ice burst from Canada and the creature shrieked, falling to the floor with a thud. He blindly kicked ice at it and it skittered away, clicking angrily. He only had a moment to breathe before he heard footsteps.

A cold hand grabbed his chin, while another yanked the blindfold from his eyes, and Canada found himself face to face with Salem. Cold black and red eyes pinned him and his breathing stuttered.

"Greetings, child. I have been waiting for you to wake." Her eyes flicked down to his throat and he flinched, failing to cover his exposed jugular. A smile graced Salem's lips. "In case you failed to notice, your necklace is gone. The chain would not break so I simply lifted it over your head."

Canada  _had_  failed to notice. He forced himself not to panic and think of all the things Salem could do with the magical item that could open a portal to Earth. Instead he glared at the Queen of the Grimm in stony silence.

Salem almost appeared amused. "Worry not, child. I can already travel to your world. I do not need another path."

Canada said nothing, keeping his emotions in check and off his face as he studied his enemy. For some reason, Salem's torso drew his attention, and he saw her ribcage appeared…  _misshapen_. As if a few of her ribs were missing on one side…

Green light caught his eye and for a heart-stopping moment he thought America had been captured too. It was not the green glow of his brother's power that he saw, but green-flamed lamps lining the walls.

Canada immediately knew where he was.

He had seen a glimpse of this place in the background of America's recorded message to him.

This was not Salem's palace.

This was not some random location.

This was  _Vale's Vault_ beneath Beacon _._

"Are you surprised I am here?" Salem asked pleasantly. "It is much more convenient than bringing you back to my home. Though I admit I have resided here for quite a while. This is where Vale needs to go to retrieve my last Relic, after all." Her red eyes glinted, finally revealing the malice she tried to hide. "All I need is him."

"You'll never catch him." Canada whispered.

"Perhaps." Salem murmured. "All my previous attempts failed. Even my Warden— one of my finest creations— perished after bringing you to me, though I suppose a short life was the price for such power. That and a few other things..."

Her hand drifted up and she briefly touched her ribcage or— more likely— where a few of her ribs used to be. Canada repressed a shudder.

Salem did not appear to notice. She released his chin and stood back, hands folded neatly in front of her. "That is why  _you_  are going to help me."

Canada swallowed. " _Never_."

Salem nodded solemnly, as if she had expected his response. Her white, black-veined hand clenched.

Agony tore through Canada's chest and he clamped his mouth shut to hold back a scream. Knives tore through his chest and heart, ripping it into meaty shreds with razor-sharp claws. Lips clamped shut, Canada writhed in silence, stubbornly refusing to voice his pain.

No blood blossomed on his chest but the black marks  _roiled_  inside him like bubbling lava, setting his nerves on fire wherever they went.

A minute passed, then two, then more, and Canada realized Salem could do this as long as she wanted. She had no reason to leave this place herself, and with him here she had the perfect hostage to trap America.

She would not stop.

She would never stop.

She would  _never_  stop until he broke—

Salem lowered her hand.

Canada went limp in his bonds, gasping painfully as echoes of pain lanced through his aching torso. Salem circled around him, hands clasped neatly in front of her, eyeing him like a shark watched lame prey.

"Did you know that this substance allows me to control you? Not to the extend I need. Not  _yet_ , anyway. Once you break, however, that will be a  _very_  different story."

Canada trembled, body still lurching uncontrollably from the pain, but he defiantly lifted his head. "I won't—"

"As much pain as that causes you, I know it is not the worst you have felt." Salem continued as if he had never spoken. "I know you will stubbornly cling to your love for your brother and resist me at every turn. Which is why I must break you thoroughly." She turned towards the shadows. "Emerald."

Emerald Sustrai stepped into the eerie green light of the Vault, eyes bright and eager and with a cold grin on her face. In her black-veined hands was the Relic of Destruction.

Canada's breathing quickened.

"I promised Emerald that she could be the one to make you pay for your murder of young Cinder." Salem informed him calmly. "And I intend to keep that promise. Let us see how long your principles last against the Relic of Destruction."

As he looked at the long, glinting sword, Canada could not deny his fear. He had faced torture before, but he had always known he would heal from it, even in his most hopeless moments. But this was a Relic created by Gods; a Relic specifically to destroy. What would it do to him? What would it do to his land? What would it do to his people?

What would happen to them if he died?

"Emerald?" Salem waited until the thief looked at her to continue. "Make sure you do not kill him."

Emerald nodded with seemingly no reluctance. "Yes, ma'am."

Salem inclined her head and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. Emerald turned to Canada and her polite look vanished, replace by a look of utter hatred that Canada was surprised it did not cause him physical pain. Emerald calmly lifted the sword and left it hovering over Canada's chest, angling the flat end towards his flesh rather than the sharp tips that could slice through bone. She waited a moment, watching Canada's face, as if she hoped he would already beg.

Canada clamped his mouth shut and glared at her.

Emerald's eyes burned like hellfire.

"This is for Cinder."

She laid the flat end of the Relic of Destruction against his chest.

And Canada  _screamed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is by Bethany Hamilton. I thought it fit Blake.
> 
> I know there was not a lot of reaction to Canada going missing but since this was primarily from Ruby and Yang's POV I feel Blake would be the first— and maybe only— thing on their minds. Reactions to Canada's capture will come next time.
> 
> We're back to Monday and Friday updates this week.


	29. Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Dark chapter. Extreme self-worth issues. Thoughts of suicide (twisted and denied as being a form of "self-sacrifice"). Frank discussion about it. Proceed with caution.

"A  _month?!_ " Prussia shouted. "They won't let us see the President for a  _MONTH_ _?!_ "

Germany cringed at his brother's volume and sent him a disapproving glare. Prussia scowled back and slammed his fists down on the meeting room table, making it rattle.

"Do they not realize how important this is?" he demanded.

"No, because we can't tell his agents everything in case the spy realizes we know." Germany explained patiently.

"The spy probably  _already_  knows and is keeping us from telling the President." Prussia snarled.

"Maybe not." Hungary said diplomatically. "America's boss might be busy. He  _is_  a leader."

Prussia scoffed. "He sure had enough time to see America."

"America's  _his_   _personification_. We aren't." Hungary argued.

"It does not matter anyway." China interjected before a full-scale argument could break out. "We cannot meet with the President yet unless you want to march into the White House and demand we meet him."

"That would go over well." Korea muttered.

Germany scanned the nations and scowled, noticing not everyone was in attendance. Switzerland, Spain, and Romania were guarding the Atlas soldier but Norway and Lithuania had no such excuse.

"Where are Norway and Lithuania?" he demanded.

Poland jumped and looked around for his friend. "Huh?"

Germany opened his mouth to berate him for not paying attention but held the rebuke back. Poland had been distracted ever since Uni had been hurt, alternating between hovering over the unicorn and avoiding her by hiding in his room. It was disconcerting to see the bubbly nation so distraught but Germany had hoped Lithuania would help him recover. The more mature nation usually could be found at his friend's side, but not today. As if he had sensed Germany's irritation, Lithuania burst through the doorway.

"Sorry I'm late." he panted, taking a seat. "I was watching the news."

Something in his tone put Germany on edge.

"What happened?" Finland asked.

Lithuania grimaced. "There was a major earthquake in Ontario, near Ottowa. They say it was an 8.9. Hundreds are dead."

A heavy silence fell over the table as they processed the news.

"Wait,  _Ontario_?" Finland questioned. "Isn't Ontario at low risk of getting such bad earthquakes?"

Lithuania shrugged helplessly. "I think so? That's one of the reasons it's so shocking. No one saw it coming and no one understands why it happened. They have Seismologists trying to figure it out."

"I hope Canada's okay..." Prussia murmured.

Germany grimaced. Having such a disaster happen so close to his capital had to be affecting Canada. If Ottowa had been affected, he may be experiencing severe chest pains, at  _best_. Germany hoped that the nation was safe, or at least in a place where he could rest—

Green light flared and Japan and Russia appeared over the table. They crashed into the wood and laid stunned, with the smaller man on top of the larger. Japan recovered first, and looked up, gaze locking onto the nation in front of him— Sweden.

"Knock him unconscious!"

Sweden wasted no time with questions. He grabbed Denmark's axe and brought the flat end down on Russia's head. Germany had a second to recognize the violently dark aura around Russia before the metal smacked into his skull. Crazed violet eyes rolled back and his body slumped on top of the table.

There was a beat of silence before the nations of AGATE began shouting, hollering questions at Japan and trying to make themselves heard over each other. Japan twitched, stiffening uneasily under their demands and scrutiny, and Germany took pity on him.

" _Quiet!_ " he bellowed.

The nations shut up.

Germany took a breath and helped Japan off the table. He looked to Sweden. "Can you take Russia to the infirmary? Keep an eye on him."

Sweden nodded silently and picked up Russia. Denmark hesitated but stood up as well, looking pointedly at Finland in a silent request for the story later. Finland nodded in assent and Denmark hurried after Sweden. Germany helped Japan into a chair, noticing he was pale. A quick scan of him revealed no injuries so he decided not to send him to the infirmary too. China shoved him aside and began looking over Japan himself, muttering lowly to himself.

"Are you injured?" He looked sharply at Japan, daring him to respond untruthfully.

Japan shook his head.

China relaxed slightly. "What happened, Japan? Why are you and Russia back?"

Japan hesitated.

Germany felt his face drain of color. "Was America captured?"

Lithuania jolted in his seat, skin going white.

"No." Japan said quickly. He hesitated again and lowered his head so his eyes were shadowed by his bangs. "Canada was."

"Oh my God." Poland croaked. "The earthquake."

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence and the nations began screaming questions again.

"What do you mean Canada was  _captured_?"

"Salem captured Canada?"

"Why would the earthquake have anything to do with it? Nations get hurt by disasters, not the other way around."

" _Was_  it Salem?"

"Why was Russia so angry?"

"Can Salem hurt our people like that?"

" _Stop_  saying that. We  _don't know_  the earthquake was connected."

"Salem  _captured Canada?_ "

" _QUIET!_ "Germany thundered, silencing them. He looked to Japan, at the slump in his shoulders and the dull horror in his eyes. Something in his throat tightened but he ignored it.

"Tell us what happened."

XXXXXXX

" _So after everything, this is how we break?"_

America did not acknowledge Vale's bitter question. He did not acknowledge how he lagged at the back of the group with only Pyrrha, Australia, and Jaune behind him. He did not acknowledge that his zombie-like pace was slowing the whole group down. True, his leg was still broken, but the pain was the last thing on his mind now. True, Team RWB— …Ruby, Weiss, and Yang were walking as if they trekked through waist-high snow, but America managed to stay behind them. He did not want to be in front of them to feel the accusing stares on his back.

Japan and Russia were back on Earth.

Canada was in Salem's hands.

Blake was dead.

The world had ended, and yet it kept on spinning.

America could feel his brother's absence like a physical hole in his heart. He kept scanning the group of colorful people expecting to see a red sweatshirt among them, but the only one there was Pyrrha's. He searched for a white coat and twitching black ears but they were gone. The hole where Blake once stood was as obvious as a missing arm.

Yang would fall back and leave a space to her right, only to startle and hurry into the empty position. Weiss would turn to the side, mouth open with an annoyed comment, only to stop and move on without speaking. Ruby stared straight ahead with a burning silver eye, clutching the talisman at her throat. Occasionally she would glance back, burning glare piercing America before she looked away again. Her words echoed in America's mind and he lowered his gaze to his feet.

_This is my fault._

" _No it isn't."_  Vale snapped.  _"You did everything you could to save Canada. And Blake was protecting Yang,_ _not_ _you."_ There was a pause as she considered her next words.  _"Screw it, I'm already a bitch._   _Blake's the one who chose to jump in front of Yang. Yang still had Aura. Blake didn't."_

America's stomach twisted.  _Vale—_

" _It's the truth and someone has to say it. Yang could have tanked that blow."_  Vale said coldly, but he could hear the pained reluctance in her voice. She sighed quietly.  _"If Blake had stayed out of the fight, she would still be alive."_

America's breath hitched and he held back a sob.  _Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

" _No."_  Vale said bluntly.  _"It's to show it's_ _ **not**_ _your fault. Blake made her choices. You_ _ **aren't**_ _to blame for them no matter what Ruby says."_

_I still lost Mattie._  America thought numbly. He looked down at his hands, hands his brother had  _literally_  slipped through. Ruby was right. He always failed people when they needed him. Blake, Canada, even Neo—

" _You didn't know Italy would leave him behind. Italy didn't know either. And as for Mist—…"_ Her breath hitched but she cleared her throat. _"And there was no way we could help Neo. We were on a completely different world. You have enough of your dumb decisions to blame yourself for. Don't add this to your list."_

"Alfred?"

America looked up to see Pyrrha's worried face. Her skin was too pale and her green eyeshadow was slightly smudged, as if she had not bothered to apply it properly. She studied him carefully, gaze tracking every twitch of his face, and frowned.

"Are you feeling okay?"

His leg felt like it was being stabbed with red-hot knives. His skin burned. His throat and mouth felt dry, and his vision occasionally swam or doubled. His heart felt heavy, as if it would fall out of his body like a lump of solid ice at any moment, and his eyes burned with tears he did not deserve to shed.

"I'm fine." America said tonelessly.

Ruby growled. It was a small sound, barely louder than the crunch of their footsteps, but America heard it. He saw Ruby glance back his way, her message clear in her eyes.

" _You have no right to grieve. It's your fault. It should have been_ _ **you**_ _."_

He could not take it.

He should know better by now but he could not stand there and take her accusations.

America did not run. With a broken leg he could not run.

So he flew.

America took to the air before England could grab him, ignoring his brother's shout to stop. He soared up over the trees and to the south. As the cold wind rushed past him he knew he was being stupid. He knew he risked being separated from the others. He knew that he was asking to be captured by going out alone.

He did not care one bit.

_Let_  him get lost.

_Let_  him run into Salem.

_Let_  her capture or kill him.

He deserved it.

America did not make it far before ice tore through his chest. He curled up in midair with a gasp and fell back to the earth, crashing through tree branches. They snapped around him on the way down and he hit the dirt with a hollow thud. Pain lanced through his leg and he may have blacked out for a moment because when he woke up, Vale was screaming.

" _YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING! WE JUST FELL A HUNDRED FEET! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!"_

America ignored her and pushed himself up. He felt something hit his thigh and looked down, startled by the glint of metal he saw there. The sacrificial dagger was still in its sheathe. He had completely forgotten he had it.

_Would it have been able to kill that Grimm?_ His stomach twisted with grief. Another thought struck him and his head tipped, studying the way the light shimmered on the blade.  _...Is it still able to kill me?_

Vale abruptly stopped yelling at him, drawing in a sharp breath. America scanned the area warily, expecting an enemy, but there was no one in sight. He supposed that was a good thing. If there was an enemy nearby he was screwed. If the enemy got him the world was screwed.

"— _ **How many more people are going to die for you?!**_ _" Ruby screamed at him.—_

" _Ruby was just projecting. She did not mean it."_  Vale said, a hint of nervousness coloring her tone.  _"I told you, it's not your fault."_

_She's right though,_ America thought. _Salem won't stop. They'll have to keep risking their lives for me._

" _Don't you dare."_  Vale breathed.  _"If you give yourself up, she won't let Canada go and you know it."_

_I know,_ he thought patiently _. That's why I'm not giving myself up,_

America felt kind of strange. Distant. Detached.  _Cold_. Like nothing mattered. There was an answer to everyone's problems and he knew it. He had  _always_  known it. He knew he should not consider it. But…

_If I die, Salem loses. We win. No more sacrifices. No more deaths._

_Except mine._

His gaze drifted back to the sacrificial dagger.

" _Alfred—"_  Vale stopped.  _"...It's your choice."_

America swallowed and took off his backpack. He pulled a spare belt and a torn shirt from the bag and began cutting it apart. He measured the width of his arm and slowly made a bracer-like sheathe, and tied it in place. The cobbled sheathe stretched from his wrist nearly up to his elbow. It was rough and not the most comfortable thing, but it would serve its purpose. It  _had_  served its purpose.

By the time America was finished making the sheathe, he no longer felt the desire to put the dagger in his heart instead of the holster. He carefully slid it into its makeshift holster up his sleeve and leaned over, gripping his hair. He rocked back and forward, almost oblivious to the pain in his leg, but unable to ignore the pain in his chest.

"I don't want to die." he whispered, needing to hear the words.

"I seriously hope you don't."

Australia emerged from the forest at a casual walking pace, but the redness of his face suggested he had been running for an extended period of time. He braced his hands on his knees and panted for a moment, and America was reminded of the last time Australia had been forced to chase him down. America's lips twisted into a distorted mockery of a smile and Australia flinched, taking a step back.

"Sorry." America said, still smiling. "I was just thinking what I'd do if someone tried to capture you again."

"They wouldn't stand a chance." Australia muttered. He eyed America levelly. "You'd better not be thinking anything stupid, mate."

America's fake smile faded. "Don't leave me alone."

Australia twitched but sat next to him without further comment. He bit on his lip and cleared his throat. "Uh. You're not thinking of offing yourself are you?"

"I..."

" _Tell the truth."_  Vale said sharply.

"I don't know." America whispered.

Australia clasped his hands together in his lap and bounced his leg nervously. "Oh. O-Okay.  _Not_  okay. That's  _not_ okay. We are going to talk. We are  _talking_." He took a breath. "Mate, you can't kill yourself over this. I— I know it hurts right now but you can't give up. Ruby was wrong to say those things yesterday, and I know she doesn't mean them. It's not your fault. It's all on Salem. She was the one who sent that monster and wants to kill everyone. Blake was protecting her friend. And we can still save Canada—"

"It's not just because of that." America admitted. "It— The  _depression_  never really left. The feelings of worthlessness, the questions why I kept  _trying_ , the lack of desire to  _live_ … It was always there. I could fight it though. Kinda. I  _knew_  what it was so I could try to say I didn't have time for it and keep moving forward. Shove it in the corner and pretend it doesn't exist." He made a vague pushing motion before letting his hands drop. "You know, if I were dead, Blake would still be alive."

"You don't know that." Australia snapped. "Her death  _isn't_  your fault, mate."

America pictured the fury on Ruby's face. Her accusations echoed in his head. "Hmm."

Australia gritted his teeth and stood up, holding out his hand. "Give me your weapon."

America swallowed hard and resisted the urge to hold Cobalt Striker protectively against his chest. "I'm not going to kill myself."

" _Give it_ to me."

America removed Cobalt Striker from his back and handed it to Australia. He did not mention the dagger up his sleeve. He tried to convince himself he only wanted a weapon to defend himself with, but in actuality it was another way out if his sleeping spell failed.

_Salem has Canada—_

America huddled and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping them in his arms as he rocked back and forth. "How did you reach me so fast?"

"I tracked you down with my animal friends." Australia paused and considered his words. "That sounded a lot more badass in my head."

America could not muster a smile. "I'm not going to kill myself."

"You were considering it." Australia accused. He balked. "Oh,  _shit_. That sounded harsh—"

"It's fine." America said gently. "You're just telling the truth." He lowered his head to his hands. "What's wrong with me?"

" _A lot of things."_  Vale said. She hesitated.  _"First of all, your fashion sense is atrocious."_

America's chuckle startled both him and Australia. He huddled in his coat and gave Australia a wan smile. "Vale's insulting my fashion sense to cheer me up."

"Is it working? Because I can join in." Australia offered, but America could tell he was relieved.

America did not resent him for not wanting to continue their previous conversation. He wanted to forget it himself. But he could not, because as much as he wanted to deny it, he did not consider killing himself out of nowhere.

Again, the same hollow thought crept back.  _If I'm dead, Salem can't win..._

Australia's relief vanished and he paled drastically. "Oh God, what did I say?"

America's brow furrowed and he belatedly realized he was crying. He lifted his eyepatch and wiped at his eyes, cupping the left one— the  _blind_  one— briefly. Something cracked and he broke down crying, big fat tears streaming down his cheeks. Australia patted his shoulder awkwardly but America could not give him permission to— or demand that he— leave, too busy sobbing hysterically.

_Mattie's gone. Blake's dead. Neo died waiting for me. As long as I live the others will have to protect me but I'm too much of a damn_ _**coward** _ _to kill myself to save everyone._

Arms wrapped securely around him and he realized England had arrived. His brother rocked and hushed him, stroking his hair, and America was reminded of simpler times before the world fell apart. A time when nothing hurt and it felt like England had all the answers...

"I should kill myself so Salem can't win." America whispered.

Australia gave a muffled gasp.

England's body was shaking. " _No_."

"Why not?" America mumbled. "It makes strategical sense. No me, no unlocked Relic of Choice, no victory for Salem."

"And what about  _me_ , huh?" England snapped. "What about me, and Matthew, and everyone else you would leave behind? Do we matter so little to you?"

"You're my family. You mean the world to me." America mumbled, confused why he had to say it. "That's why I'd sacrifice  _everything_  to save the world. To save you and Mattie, and  _everyone_  I love. I was supposed to be the  _only one_ sacrificing anything. I sacrificed my resistance in the lab for Mattie, my choice for Vale and Remnant, my freedom for France, Jett, and Australia, my pride for survival, and my happiness for a semblance of denial-based sanity. Why not give my life for the world? Why  _shouldn't_  I? If I die, you'll be safe. But if I live and fail, everyone I love  _dies_ , and no sacrifice I made will matter." A shudder passed through him and he pressed his face to England's warm shoulder. "None of it will matter..."

"Is that what you think?" England asked faintly.

"Just stating facts. Salem can't get Choice if I'm dead." America mumbled. "But I don't want to die. I want this to be over but  _I don't want to die_." His watery laugh came out as a hiccup. "Isn't that stupid?"

England's arms tightened. "No.  _No_ , poppet. You're  _not_  a sacrifice."

"But if  _I'm_  not the sacrifice, _someone els_ e will be."  _Like Blake. And Mattie._ "Their lives matter. My life doesn't. I'm not a person. I'm a  _thing_  to be fought over and won." His chest grew tight and his breathing came in sharp, painful pants. "Even if I get away from them, I can never undo what they did. But they act like I should be proud I'm their chosen one. That I should be  _grateful_. I should be grateful that they  _ruined_  me." He curled up, gripping his hair so he would not claw at his left eye, and laughed bitterly. "Here I go, blaming others and just thinking about myself  _again_ —"

" _No_ , Alfred." England hissed. He pulled away from America, but kept his hands on his shoulders. "Look at me."

America reluctantly did.

England studied his face and violet light flickered over his skin. He repressed it with obvious effort, gritting his teeth. "Once I would have said you were the most self-absorbed nation on Earth. Now you are the  _least_  self-centered person I've ever met, to the point where you don't see  _any_  worth in your own life. Well I  _bloody_   _well_   _do_. You are  _not_ obligated to sacrifice yourself. Anyone who expects you to deserves a bullet to the face. Your life isn't worth less because your death would  _supposedly_  save people. Do you think killing yourself would save Matthew? Do you think it would make him  _happy_?"

America shrank in on himself, shame pooling in his gut.

England winced. " _Blasted—_  Why can't you just _—No_. I'm  _not_  going to guilt you into changing your mind. Are you that—" He cut himself off and took a breath. "I want you to live—  _Matthew_  wants you to live— because we  _love you_ , you stu— you daf— you id—… you glowing ball of sunshine."

America stared at him. A soft giggle escaped his lips.

" _What the hell did he just say?"_  Vale squeaked, making him giggle harder.

England turned bright red and grumbled. "Stop that. I'm complimenting you!"

America laughed harder.

"'Glowing ball of sunshine'?" Australia asked. "You have some weird compliments. Are you out of practice? Too used to insulting him, mate?"

England's skin was comparable to the color of a beet. " _Quiet_. You're uninvolved in this."

"He has a point though." America said. His— probably hysterical— giggles faded and he snuggled against his brother's side. "You really don't think I should die?" He did not intend for it to sound like a question.

"Of course not." England said stiffly.

"You're kind of biased." America murmured.

"You're even  _more_  biased, you g _iiii_ — glorious person." The way England struggled almost made it sound like he was trying to speak a foreign language for the first time in his life.

An almost-smile tugged at America's lips. "Point taken. You know, Mattie would be so proud—" He froze and gritted his teeth to hold back a sob. "It's my— It's all my— It hurts so  _much_."

"Life does." England said. "But that doesn't mean I will allow you to give up on it. Not for me, not for this world, not even for yourself." He abruptly pulled America into another embrace. "I'm  _not_  losing you, too."

America's eyes burned. He leaned against his big brother's shoulder and stared at the trees. "I'm sorry."

He could not say _"You won't."_

He still was not sure he wanted to.

XXXXXXX

When Alfred flew off, the cynical part of Ruby whispered "Good riddance." When Arthur and Jett ran after him in a panic, it whispered "Of course they worry about  _him_." When they failed to return a few minutes later, worry finally slipped between the cracks in her bitterness. Then she remembered why Blake died and the worry died as well.

They decided to continue south, seeing how that was the way Alfred had run off to. Ruby supposed they would catch up eventually. Alfred would not go far, and Arthur and Jett were already pursuing him. They'd be fine.

_Blake wasn't fine. She_ _**died** _ _._

Ruby gritted her teeth, glaring at the trail ahead.

Pyrrha abruptly stopped in place and looked to the closest nation— Lovino. "I need to speak to RWBY for a moment. Do you mind if…?"

"No problem." Lovino interjected.

He grasped Feliciano's arm and kept walking. Sterlyn and Oscar hurried after them while Winter hesitated briefly. After a pause she reluctantly followed, giving the former Beacon students space.

Pyrrha immediately looked to Ruby. "When I said 'Ruby' I meant  _you_ , Ruby."

Ruby's heart squeezed. "Of course you did. We aren't RW _B_ Y anymore."

Weiss bit her lip.

Yang turned her head away.

Pyrrha frowned. "That is not what I meant to imply." Her voice remained gentle but there was a soft rebuke in there.

Ruby was too tired— too  _angry_ because if she wasn't angry then she'd— to care. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You should apologize for what you said—"

Yang jumped to her sister's defense. "When did she say something wrong—?"

"—to Alfred." Pyrrha finished sharply. Her green eyes glazed. "You hurt him a lot."

"Sorry I said the truth." The words came out before Ruby realized what she was saying, and only a part of her wanted to take them back.

Pyrrha closed her eyes and exhaled slowly before reopening them. "Ruby, I know you're hurting right now, but I also know you're not thinking straight. You'll regret this once you've stopped looking for someone to blame. Don't hurt your friends because you're hurting. And  _don't_  deny that's the reason. I know that's why you're blaming him because you never blamed  _me_  for Penny."

"That's different." Ruby blurted, ignoring the lance of ice in her chest. "Emerald tricked you and it was an accident. Salem went after Unc— She destroyed Frontier and killed Blake because of  _him_."

The calm expression cracked slightly and Pyrrha's lips thinned in disapproval. "Blake is dead—" Ruby flinched. "—because of Salem. Qrow may be dead because of  _Salem_. Yet you decided blaming  _Alfred_  for it will make you feel better? Pardon my language, but your grief does not give you permission to be an  _ass_  to people. He's as much to blame as the rest of us are."

The pang of hurt at her words transformed into anger. "Blake  _died_  because of him." Ruby repeated.

"How?" Pyrrha challenged. "Because Salem decided to send another Grimm after us? Because he was too injured to fight effectively— from an injury Salem gave him? Because Yang's arm malfunctioned and Blake decided to come back to protect her? Oh yes, that makes  _so_  much sense. You know what? I have a  _great idea!_  How about we blame Alfred for getting Vale forced inside him next? Or blame him for Atlas finding Earth? Or maybe we should blame him for being  _born_? If he wasn't born then we wouldn't be in this situation,  _RIGHT?!_ "

It might be the first time Ruby ever heard Pyrrha shout like that, loud and angry. It made her feel… small. Ren grasped Pyrrha's shoulder but she shook him off. Jaune stepped in front of her, hands raised peacefully.

"Pyrrha, calm dow—"

" _No_." Pyrrha snarled. "I will  _not_  calm down! You weren't there when he was  _screaming_  because of the memories of Atlas's experiments. You weren't there when he admitted he was terrified he would be  _hated and abandoned_  by his friends. I thought his fears were unfounded but you're doing  _exactly that!_  You all didn't exactly  _deny_  what Ruby said  _now did you?_ "

They shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her gaze.

Teary green eyes glared at Ruby, filled with more anger than she had ever seen. "I am not going to sit here and let you take out your anger on him— on  _any_  of us. You're allowed to grieve, Ruby. We  _all_  are. But don't you  _dare_  blame Alfred or anyone here for any of this. We knew what this mission entailed. More importantly, we are  _friends_. We are  _all_  a team. I will  _not_  allow Salem to divide us now. I've had friendships fall apart because of bitterness and  _petty_ blame. I've  _been_  blamed for things out of my control." Her anger wavered, exposing something hurt and sorrowful. "Blake would not want us fighting. Not like this. Not because of her."

Jaune's expression crumpled and he made to hug Pyrrha but she shook him off.

"Excuse me." she said tersely.

She summoned her weapons to her hands and stormed into the woods. Her team immediately ran after her, leaving Ruby, Weiss, and Yang alone.

Weiss watched them go and her shoulders slumped. "We've made a mistake."

Yang did not say a word. Her face showed nothing of what she thought.

"No you didn't." Ruby whispered. " _I_  did. I shouldn't have said those things."

"But maybe we all were thinking them." Weiss admitted, gaze averted from her team. "It's easier to have someone to lash out at and blame than admit we can't touch the ones really responsible."

Ruby cringed as what she was trying to ignore was put into words. Even now she wanted to deny them. She wanted to be angry at Pyrrha and Alfred and everyone because the alternative was accepting her lurking grief and admitting Blake was—

Admitting Blake was—

Ruby heard Francis call out to someone and looked up. Her guilt multiplied tenfold.

Jett, Arthur, and Alfred were back.

Alfred looked  _terrible_.

Jett was carrying him on his back, carefully walking to not jostle the other teen too much. Alfred's exposed flesh looked as pale as snow compared to Jett's tan skin and his forehead was slick with feverish sweat. As Ruby approached, Alfred spotted her. He murmured something to Jett, who reluctantly set him down. Pyrrha lingered close but did not try to support him after he shook his head. Green eyes locked onto Ruby and Jett's normally cheerful gaze was undeniably  _un_ welcoming.

"Go away. You've done enough damage."

Ruby winced. Her guilt grew again as Alfred came to her defense.

"Hey, don't say that. Ruby was just upset and venting. It's fine. I'm not a fragile flower that's going to wilt because I was yelled at."

Except it was more than just being yelled at. Blake was Alfred's friend too. He had just lost his brother. He was grieving too. He was so afraid of being abandoned by his friends that he let Ivan shove him around if Matthew's words under Salem's influence were any indication. Not to mention how depressed he had been—

Ruby's stomach curdled with guilt.  _What have I done?_ "I'm sorry."

It was not enough. It was not even fully true because of her irrational desire to blame him— to cling to what allowed her to deny her grief and keep her anger going.

Alfred smiled but the warmth did not return to his dull blue eye. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. You can vent at me all you want if it makes you feel better."

Ruby almost wanted to take him up on his offer. She knew better than to think it came from a healthy place, however. If Alfred was offering to let her explode at him simply because he thought she needed it, it would be one thing. But that was not the case. He offered— at least in part— because he believed she was  _right_. The shame settled hot and uncomfortable in her gut.

"I forgot something in the woods." Arthur said abruptly. He turned on his heel and walked back into the foliage.

Francis patted Alfred on the arm and hurried after him with a soft "Excuse me."

Ruby instinctively made to follow them but Ren's hand landed on her arm, stopping her. The ninja looked after the two nations, a frown pulling at his lips.

"We may want to keep our distance."

XXXXXXX

Green light flared up the tree like lightning, cracking it open, and it exploded, mostly vaporized. England ignored the bits of burning wood that pelted him and targeted another tree, tearing it apart with his magic.

"I  _HATE_  THEM!"

He blasted another tree to smithereens and chips of wood sprayed through the air.

France did not flinch as they rained down on him, bouncing off his Aura. "Who do you hate?"

"Atlas. Ironwood. Polendina. Salem. Ozpin. This whole  _GODFORSAKEN PLANET!_ "

He slammed his staff into the ground and the trees around him shattered. France cringed lightly but still did not move, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What happened, Angleterre? What did you learn?"

England turned on him, aura crackling with violet energy. "Those bastards made America think he should  _kill himself_ to save the world. They  _conditioned_  him to believe that."

France sucked in a sharp breath and grimaced. "I am not surprised—"

"And America's self-worth is so low he almost bloody  _did it._ " England snarled. "He considered  _killing himself_ because he genuinely thought it would  _SAVE US!_ "

He destroyed another swathe of trees, leaving shattered bark where they once stood. His skin rippled with violet energy, so much that it was beginning to hurt. England could tell from his expression that France did not fully understand. He did not realize how utterly broken America was. England's little brother looked him in the eye and genuinely— without a hint of sarcasm— asked if he should kill himself to ' _save people_ '. To save  _him_ , England. His big brother.

What did these people— these  _monsters_  do to America to make him think 'self-sacrifice'—  _suicide_ — was preferable to living? What did they whisper in his ear as they tortured him, manipulated him, and bent him until he was too damaged to see straight anymore?

And now they had Canada.  _Salem_  had Canada, his other little brother. What would she do to him? What would she whisper in his ear? Would England find him and rescue him, only to discover his other brother had been broken beyond repair too?

His chest hurt.

England grunted, rubbing at it irritably, and France's lips thinned.

"England." France said sternly. "Stop holding your emotions in. You need to let them out."

England clenched his jaw so hard it ached. "You're too close—"

"I can handle it." France stated.

England nodded slowly.

Then he let go.

A pulse of violet energy rippled out from him, blasting through the trees and ripping leaves and branches from them. In the distance, England heard the others' startled cries. Among them was America and Australia's and panic overcame his rage. He ran through the trees to find everyone on the ground, curled up as if they were in physical pain. Ruby was crying, clutching at her eye. Winter was pale-faced and silent. Oscar stared into the distance with a blank gaze.

America was laughing. He laughed so hard tears ran down his cheeks, and England knew if he kept laughing like that he'd pass out. The last of the violet light faded and England rushed to his brother's side. He did not make it before he stumbled over something with a distinctly metal  _clang_. He fell to his knees with a curse and looked back.

Penny blinked up at him. "Arthur Kirkland. You are distressed. What happened during the period I was deactivated?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I was in a bit of a bad mood when I wrote this. I hope it did not affect the chapter in a negative way. It was meant to be a rollercoaster of emotions because everyone is just reacting, you know? Or maybe an explosion of emotions is a more accurate description because everyone teetered on the edge of their breaking points and just blew up. Grief isn't clean or logical. It's ugly and chaotic and different for everyone but tends to work in ways that don't make sense.
> 
> So. Last chapter was about Blake. This chapter is about a bit of the aftermath, mainly Alfred and his guilt complex (and lingering depression), Ruby and her grief (and misplaced blame), England trying to keep himself together (while waltzing past the point he can hold it in) and the building tension between our heroes (because everyone is angry and hurt and scared and confused and the world isn't right anymore).
> 
> One thing I've grown to dislike is when grieving characters act like jerks to their friends and are never called out for it. I don't mean one snap or insult. I mean the cases where they act like a-holes for days and the other characters are like "It's okay. They're grieving." How about no. It's like, I know you're grieving and upset but why are you taking it out on the people who love and care about you? Come on, guys! Don't be a butt.
> 
> That being said, Ruby is still not the epitome of emotional maturity. She does not have the experience to work through her grief in a healthy, non-instinctive manner. I feel like she would lash out after all the grief she's experienced in such a short amount of time (which she simply cannot handle) but I did not want those feelings to fester too long and make her unlikable. (It's the worst thing to see a sympathetic character blame another sympathetic character for something for an extended period and not realize they're being unfair. Like I said, there's a risk of them becoming unlikable. Just look at some people's reactions to RWBY after Volume 6 Chapter 4.)
> 
> Thus, the quick calling-out from Pyrrha, who had friendships fall apart because of petty reasons (primarily bitterness and jealousy), who has seen Alfred's trauma first hand, who was blamed for Beacon, and who is having none of that here. She'll let her friends grieve, but not in a way that hurts other friends.
> 
> Oh, and the reason why Silver Eyes hasn't been an issue is because (in story) Ruby's grieving more than angry (as much as she wants to deny it) and there is no Enemy she can target. Out of story, I wanted her feelings to be all her. There is no evil curse to take the blame for her thoughts and actions.
> 
> As for Alfred's breakdown and thoughts of suicide… when you're told your life does not matter, you've been conditioned to believe the world is more important than you, you just lost people, and you already have a bunch of other emotional issues, you're going to go wayyyy down fast and start believing they're right (and you're nothing). Pretty much Alfred was caught in a mix of "for the greater good" and "might as well say eff it and be done before I get anyone else killed".
> 
> Long story short, Ruby wants to lash out so she does not hurt anymore, Pyrrha knows better than to let her, England wants to destroy things because he can't destroy the people that hurt his brothers, and America really needs therapy. Like, majorly.
> 
> Who's keeping a list of characters that need a hug? Add pretty much everyone.
> 
> Long A/N is long. Oops.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm going back to just Friday updates for a couple of weeks. I know, I know, how terrible, but I am going to be VERY busy these next couple weeks.


	30. Recklessness of the Grieving Fool

It took them hours to calm down enough to answer Penny. The robot had nearly slaughtered Oscar but America held onto her until she stopped trying to murder the "meatbag" named Ozpin.

They reluctantly set up camp and settled down for the night, but America knew no one slept. He did not ask Romano to help him, not willing to escape the waking world through sleep at the moment. Not only did the risk of an attack keep him tense, but the thoughts he did not acknowledge still prodded at him, despite England's reassurances.

_I really am broken, aren't I?_ He thought, too resigned to be bitter.

" _Maybe."_ Vale admitted.

America shifted uncomfortably under his blanket, acutely aware that Canada was not sleeping near him. He took a shuddering breath.  _I can't give myself up as a trade._

" _No you can't."_

_She'll kill everyone if I do._

" _Yes, she will."_

_And if I sacrificed myself she'd kill Mattie._

" _If you_ _ **committed**_   _ **suicide**_ _."_  Vale said harshly.  _"Call it what it is."_

America's fingers gripped the blankets.  _But it would stop her. She couldn't win if I—_

" _ **No one**_ _wants you to make that sacrifice. Well, maybe Ozpin does but I'm not about to let you do anything that scumbag wants."_

Her blunt tone was so familiar that America breathed a little easier.  _Thank you._

" _For what?"_

_For trying to help me._

Vale sighed.  _"I haven't exactly been doing my job lately."_

America's brow furrowed.  _Your job?_

" _Emotional support."_

America almost laughed.  _Oh, yeah..._

Vale cleared her throat.  _"As your emotional support… What you did earlier was stupid."_

America winced.  _I know._

" _I just couldn't believe it. I was in your head and I didn't notice how messed up you are."_  Vale made a disgusted sound.  _"I was too caught up in my own problems to care, I guess."_

_I never blamed you._

" _Which is why you are an idiot. A lovable idiot, but still an idiot."_

_At least some things haven't changed._

Vale was quiet for a time.  _"Alfred… where did you get the idea that sacrificing your life like that was a good option?"_

America nibbled at his lip.  _You don't know?_

" _No. Now answer the question."_

America thought about it.  _I… don't know. No one specifically told me I should... I think. They_ _ **hinted**_ _, and recently Atlas, Ironwood, and Ozpin said I should but I thought about it before that. I…_  He swallowed.  _I think it was from heroes. They sacrifice themselves to save the world all the time._

" _They're fictional. And they often come back. You wouldn't."_

_I know._

" _I don't think you do."_ Vale said without judgment. _"Because those hero-filled stories don't show you everything. They make self-sacrifice seem noble and heroic, but it's also_ _ **selfish**_ _. Look at Yang."_

America reluctantly did. The girl's back was to him, and her shoulders were too stiff for her to be sleeping. Occasionally they shuddered with repressed sobs. Claws squeezed his heart at the sight.

" _Blake sacrificed her life for Yang."_  Vale said bluntly.  _"And now it's tearing Yang up inside. Your reasons don't matter. If you die for someone, they're going to be hurt. They're going to grieve, and agonize over what they could have done differently so you didn't die. Do you want to do that to your brothers?"_

America did not have to think about it.  _No._

" _Good."_  Vale breathed.  _"Now get those thoughts out of your head. We're not dying like that."_

_That doesn't mean we won't die,_  America pointed out.

" _But at least we're not dying for_ _ **no reason**_ _."_  Vale countered.  _"Think about it this way: Atlas would want you to kill yourself to 'save' Remnant. Don't do it just to spite her."_

America thought he might be able to do that.  _Spite, huh?_

" _It worked for me. After I lost my Kingdom I needed_ _ **something**_ _to keep me going."_

America remembered what Ozpin did to Vale. He imagined having to remain in hiding, unable to expose himself to his government because they may hurt him if he did, and his skin crawled.  _Do you want to talk about it?_

" _I don't know if I can. The geas is still binding me."_ She paused as if testing the weight of her tongue.  _"Ever since I fled, I was powerless in my own Kingdom. I could not return and take part in my own nation's affairs. I knew if I came out of hiding, Ozpin would trap me. At best, it would be out of guilt. At worst, to keep an eye on me or keep me from becoming a problem. I'm honestly surprised he did not have Qrow bring me in as soon as he found my location."_

_Maybe he changed?_ America thought humorlessly.

Vale laughed bitterly.  _"I have no doubt he did. He certainly mellowed out from the man who commanded me to use a Relic to destroy the enemy's army. But that did not mean his view on 'the needs of the many' changed, as we learned."_

America thought of the sacrificial dagger up his sleeve.  _Yeah._

They lay in silence, watching the sky turn from dark blue to pink.

_...Do you think Mattie will be okay?_

" _We'll rescue him."_

_But do you think he'll be_ _**okay** _ _?_

She did not give him false reassurances.  _"You know they'll torture him."_

America's gorge rose. He swallowed roughly.  _We have to save him._

" _How? We don't know where Salem is."_

America did not have an answer. The sun rose and his companions rose with it, eyes reddened and movements lethargic and slow. As they woke one by one, America boxed away his emotions and shoved them in a corner, because he could not allow himself to break down again. He needed to  _think_ , not react.

"Ugggghhh." Nora groaned as she stretched her back. "I think I'm still reeling from Arthur's emotion blast. I feel  _way_ out of whack. Kinda drained too."

"My apologies." England said stiffly. "I mistakenly believed I was far enough away."

"Meh, it's fine." Nora said airily, flapping her hand. "I can see why your Semblance is that, though. How do you hold it all in without exploding all the time?"

England grunted.

Nora pouted. "Fine. You don't have to answer I guess."

The conversation was wonderfully normal and America wished it would never end. He sat up and nearly bumped heads with Penny. She leaned back at the last moment and looked down at her hands.

"Are you okay?" America asked after she failed to speak.

"I am functioning at optical capacity."

America paused and scanned her carefully. "'Optical'?"

"I said optimal."

"I don't think you did."

Penny blinked at him. "You are mistaken."

"Alfred." Pyrrha approached along with Jaune. "Here."

She handed him two long sticks. America took in the shape— and the metal reinforcing the wood— and realized they were makeshift crutches. He carefully set his weight on them, broken leg held aloft. They were the perfect height.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She brushed a lock of her bangs out of her face. "We should have made you crutches sooner."

"You had other things on your mind." America said and instantly regretted it.

Pyrrha's gaze shifted away from him. "I suppose."

"Don't ignore me  _you bastard!_ " England shouted. America looked to him in time to see a remorseful expression cross his face. "Sorry, lad."

"It's okay. I know you're not talking to me." Oscar said. He stared into the distance, young features drawn and resigned. "Could you at least  _pretend_  to care enough to give us answers?"

His eyes flashed gold and Ozpin eyed England coolly. "Arthur. I believed you'd rather I remain out of your way."

"Sod off." England snapped. "Are you  _certain_  you do not know where Salem is?"

"No. I don't know where she is." Ozpin said shortly. "Though we know where her forces will appear."

Golden eyes flicked to America and Penny stepped between them, weapons clicking in warning.

"We are  _not_  using Alfred as bait." England spat.

"I was not suggesting that." Ozpin claimed. "But they will continue to hunt him. Use that information as you will."

His eyes flashed and Oscar returned with a wince. He grunted and grasped his head, features screwed up with pain.

"Are you alright?" Weiss asked.

Oscar nodded. "Yeah. The transfer has been hurting more lately."

They all knew why. None of them mentioned it.

Yang had already folded up her sleeping area and put her bag on her back. She placed Gambol Shroud beside it, and America could see she was unused to the weapon's weight.

"Where are we headed?" she asked.

" _Beacon_." England spat the word like a curse. "We can't stage a rescue mission when we don't know where Matthew is."

Yang walked up and put a hand on his arm. "Hey, Ozpin might be shady but he has a point. Salem's henchmen will still be after us to capture Alfred." Her eyes narrowed. "We should try to capture  _them_  to get information on Matthew's location. No bait involved."

"I'm perfectly fine with being bait, actually." America felt the need to bring up. He ignored England's glare.

"Ozpin's right." Ruby said, not looking at him. " _Alfred_  needs to go to Beacon, but not  _all_  of us do. We shouldn't leave Matthew with Salem. We need to find and rescue him. A trap could work but her forces might not be able to track us since…" She glanced uncomfortably at her sister. "...Ivan left. But if they're lurking around, we should at least  _try_  to set a trap for them."

"But we don't know who is after us. And we're more likely going to run into Salem than her henchmen." Weiss mentioned. America pretended not to notice the lingering tear stains on her cheeks.

England's eyes were cold. "I won't abandon Matthew."

Ruby lowered her head so her hood shielded her eyes. America wondered if she was still comparing his loss to hers and hating him for hurting because at least his brother was still  _alive_ —  _Stop it._ Box the emotions in and shove them away.

" _You really shouldn't do this. It's not healthy. As you clearly showed yesterday."_

America did not deign Vale with a response.

"So are we moving or setting up a trap?" Yang asked impatiently.

Ruby hesitated.

England did not speak.

Jaune took charge. "I think we should keep moving. There's nothing here that gives us a clear advantage for an ambush."

Yang was already walking away. The others scrambled to follow her, with Nora and Pyrrha staying beside America. He sighed but knew it was stupid to protest. Penny noticed their positions and frowned lightly.

"Much has changed since I deactivated."

"Yeah." America mumbled. He adjusted his bag and studied her from the corner of his eye. "So do you know what knocked you out?"

"Ozpin's magic shut me down." Penny stated. "During the shutdown period I located the problem with my energy reserves. I believe I have managed to isolate it so it will have decreased adverse affects on me."

America breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. What is the problem? Can I help?"

Penny hesitated. "Negative. You cannot help." Her green eyes looked past him, where he knew Yang was standing.

"Hey." America said quietly. "Are you feeling okay? Are you… distressed?"

"Negative." Penny said. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "If I deactivated permanently, would you mourn for me?"

"Yes." America gasped, shocked she had to ask. "Penny, where is this coming from?"

Penny glanced at Yang again and away. "Blake Belladonna has ceased to be alive. All of you are… 'grieving'."

A lump formed in America's throat. "Yeah."

Penny stared straight ahead. "When you discovered you were dying, you told me. You knew keeping that secret would… distress me, and make my 'grief' greater if you passed."

America's mind jumped ahead and could not breathe. _She's dying. She's_ _ **dying**_ _. Oh God, she's going to run out of energy and die that's why she was unconscious so long—_

Her fingers twitched and clenched. "I have been lying to you, Alfred F. Jones. I claimed I did not know why my energy was draining, but that statement was not factual. I have always known. When the airship crashed, something activated and shielded my body from being damaged."

Vale gasped.

It took America a little longer to get it. "Shielded…? You have  _Aura_?" A beaming grin crossed his face. "Penny, that's  _great_ —"

The dull look on her face silenced him.

"I have compared readings of the Aura to that of Penny Polendina's and discovered that the energy readings do  _not_ match. The Aura is  _not_  hers. However, I cannot discern whether that Aura is  _mine_. If it is, then my efforts to keep it repressed have been counterproductive. But if the Aura is not mine— if it is not  _my_  soul— then I predict that if I let it out, it will erase me."

XXXXXXX

Canada did not know how long he had been in the Vault beneath Beacon. He did not know how long he had been in Emerald and Salem's "tender" care. It could have been days, or hours, or only minutes, but Canada could already feel himself weakening.

Is this was what it was like for America? Endless days of pain with no respite? Desperately clinging to the hope for rescue because he could not break? Knowing he could not break and give in to his captors because it would lead to others' suffering and pain?

Trying to last one more day, just one more day.

One more hour, just one more hour.

One more minute, just a minute.

Seconds, just last a few more seconds, it could not last longer than a few more seconds—

Emerald lifted the sword from his leg and left him weeping. She had not even used the sharp end of the blade, but Canada could not find it in himself to be grateful. The mere touch of the flat end was  _agony_ , bursting blood vessels, rupturing organs, and snapping bones. All non-lethal. All things he could heal from, even if he had not yet. Canada would be more surprised to find a place that did not hurt than one that did.

But he was alive, if only because Salem commanded it. After the first touch of the Relic of Destruction nearly stopped his heart, Salem ordered Emerald to avoid lethal areas, not wanting to risk losing her hostage.

She and Emerald took turns torturing him, Emerald with the Relic and Salem with her essence. He could not decide whose tortures were harder to bear. Emerald was straightforward and brutal, seeking to cause him as much pain as possible as revenge for killing her master.

Salem was… unpredictable. Sometimes she would stand before him with her hand clenched, watching as he writhed as the Grimm essence tore his insides apart. But other times she would talk. She would whisper things in his ear, and her words stayed with him like spiderwebs clinging to his mind.

"No one will come for you. They don't know where you are. And you aren't as important as America, are you?"

"France gave you away, didn't he? He claimed not to care about North America anymore. And then he helped America win his Revolutionary War. Why didn't he help  _you_?"

"All those years you stayed loyally with England and he still loves America more."

"Poor little Canada. Always forgotten. Always mistaken for his brother. Always pushed aside. No wonder you resent him."

"What a cruel twist of irony. Your brother would sacrifice every piece of himself for your sake and loves you with all his heart, yet you  _hate_  him with part of yours."

"You are truly the most  _despicable_  type of creature. You hide your selfish and resentful nature under a deceptive veil of kindness and politeness. You remind me of Ozpin."

"If both you and your brother died, what would happen to your people? Would they fall to ruin like Mantle? Oh, I forgot. It was  _you_  who severed the connection and killed them all. It's only one act of genocide, but it's a start."

"As much pain as you are in now, your brother will have it worse if he resists me. Do you know why? Because when my followers retrieve Vale, it won't be  _me_  who tortures him. I'll leave that to you. You'll be  _happy_  to obey."

Canada tried to resist her manipulations. He tried to forget her claims and lies, but they haunted him, building up his anger and fear and making him that much easier to manipulate. The black tendrils were all over Canada's skin now. Emerald had removed his blindfold and showed him his reflection just so he could see them. They were on his chest, his stomach, his arms and legs and back and hands and... and...

And the tendrils were etched up his face— over his temples near dark violet eyes— shifting like pulsing tattoos.

There was no mistaking what—  _who_ — he looked like.

There was also no denying the anger that was almost as strong as his fear, the feral desire to see his tormentors— specifically Emerald— ripped to bloody  _shreds_. First he would break her legs so she could not run. Then he would cut off her hands and tear out her eyes, followed by her entrails—

"No." Canada gasped, falling back to himself. " _No_."

Emerald smirked at him. She raised the sword. He flinched.

_Please stop._ _ **I hate you.**_ _Please don't._ _ **I'll tear you apart.**_ _Please let this end._ _ **I'll**_ **destroy** _ **you**_ _._ —

"Is something wrong?" she mocked him. "Do you regret what you've done yet?"

Canada's lips twitched. They curled into a cold smile and he raised his head.

"I only regret that I didn't hang Cinder's headless corpse from Beacon Tower."

The Relic slashed his leg and he screamed.

He only had a second to feel blood gush down his calf before he mercifully fell unconscious.

XXXXXXX

"This is a bad idea." Feliciano said.

Lovino chewed his lip but did not verbally echo his brother's sentiment.

"I agree." Pyrrha said for him. "Perhaps we should keep traveling."

"No, this is good." Yang said. "Just  _look_  at this place."

She gestured at their surroundings. The group was traveling through a thin gorge, with tall, rocky cliffs on either side. The cliffs were filled with small caverns, which Vale theorized may have functioned as human shelters from "before her time". Regardless, they were empty now, without a single Grimm in sight. Perhaps the area was too far from human civilization for Grimm to be interested, or perhaps they were just lucky.

Ruby did not believe in luck. Not anymore.

Francis eyed their surroundings thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "We could set explosives to go off down there and bury or trap the enemy." he noted, pointing at one end of the gorge.

"I'll do it!" Nora offered. She paused and glanced sidelong at Winter. "Nora can make stuff go boom now?"

Winter's eye twitched at her purposeful third-person manner of speech. "I suppose you can." she said through gritted teeth. "I will also assist in setting the trap."

"Hey." Weiss interjected. "Feliciano and Pyrrha have a point. Are we  _certain_  we want to risk this?"

"Unless you want to keep running until we reach Beacon, I say yes." Yang said tersely. "We need to turn the tables on Salem's group. They won't expect us to take the first swing." She punched her robotic fist into her flesh palm, cracking her knuckles. "Best case scenario, we capture one of Salem's henchmen and kill a few more so we have less to face at Beacon."

"And the worst case scenario?" Pyrrha said quietly.

"Alfred is captured or somebody dies." Nora muttered. She blanched. "Oh,  _bad_  time."

Yang's eyes were red. "Yeah." she spat. " _Bad time_. Come with me and let's set things up."

She stormed off towards the end of the gorge and Winter strode after her. Nora followed at a slower pace, unusually morose.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Jett, can you see if any enemies are nearby?"

The animal-attuned nation closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "There aren't many animals in this area. I can't see anything."

Arthur frowned.

Jaune dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "You know what? Feliciano's right. This is a bad idea. We should just keep movi—"

"No." Ruby blurted. Her fists clenched at her side. "No, we should do this. I'm tired of being chased and hunted everywhere. We should turn the tables on them for once."

_Let them see what it was like to be attacked out of nowhere._

It rankled when Arthur looked to Alfred and not her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Alfred hesitated. Indecision flashed across his face, almost too quickly to catch. His blue eye flicked to Ruby and he nodded. "We might as well try."

XXXXXXX

_Here I go. Sitting around. Being bait. Come and get me._

America sat near the edge of the gorge, head in his hands and knife up his sleeve. Australia had refused to give Cobalt Striker back to him, claiming America would look more vulnerable without it. America knew it was the near-miss five days ago that made Australia withhold the weapon. America did not blame him. He did not trust  _himself_ with the shotgun at the moment. Though he wished he had it right now.

The plan was simple, though he knew it would not remain that way. America would act as bait. Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Winter, Jaune, and Nora would watch the perimeter for enemy forces. If a group appeared, they would blow up the gorge and bury them, picking off as many enemies as they could. If a single enemy appeared, they would let him or her pass through towards America to see if their friends were nearby.

That left England, Penny, Pyrrha, France, Romano, Italy, and Ren to watch over America from the many caverns carved into the gorge walls. Oscar— more specifically, Ozpin— was out of the way with Sterlyn. The teams far outnumbered their opponents, with powerhouses and shields in both groups and Ren ready to focus completely on interfering with Salem's emotion manipulation. If they got the drop on their enemies, they may just win this. Vale was not convinced.

" _This is a terrible idea."_  Vale stressed.  _"You know all those times you were stupid and 'asked' to be captured? This time you actually_ _ **are**_ _."_

_Don't be so pessimistic._

"' _Pessimistic'? America, you're sitting here and waiting for Salem's henchmen to attack you."_

_That's the plan._

" _It's a stupid plan. Do you really think they'll fall for this?"_

_I've run off alone like an idiot before. Hell, I did it five days ago. They know I'm stupid enough to pull something like this._ America sneezed and rubbed at his nose.  _Stupid cold._

The communicator in his ear crackled.

" _We have visual."_ Ruby whispered.  _"It's Hazel. He's alone. I think he's scouting ahead."_

America did not physically acknowledge her. It was time to start the waterworks. He pictured Canada's apologetic face before he was taken, recalling the helplessness and despair he felt, and began to weep. His sobs echoed through the gorge, bouncing desolately off the stones.

" _Is he okay?"_  Nora asked.  _"That sounds real."_

" _It's called_ _ **acting**_ _, Nora."_  Yang said briskly.

" _Hazel hears you."_  Ruby hissed.

" _Blow him up?"_ Nora asked instantly.

" _Negative. Wait to see if we get visual on the others."_  Winter said.

" _No."_  Penny snapped.  _"We cannot allow Hazel Rainart to approach Alfred F. Jones."_

The robotic girl was the hardest one to convince to allow America to act as bait. When she was told the plan, she had looked ready to grab America and run off with him, leaving the rest of the group behind. Eventually America got her to agree by positioning her closest to him, in a fern-covered cave above his head.

_It's fine_ , America quickly thought to her through his Scroll.  _I can buy us some time._   _Hazel tends to talk before he fights. Keep a lookout for the others. Once we're sure he's alone we can move._

America listened to her reluctantly relay the message and made sure to keep sobbing. His shoulders shook with the force of them and his vision blurred. It was surprisingly easy to make them appear real. Or maybe—̵̡͛ ȋ̵͇t̷̖̊ was not surprising at all. Blake was dead. Canada was taken. Ruby hated him because of it and the others might agree with her. Why else would they remain silent when she said those things? And Russia Japan were sent back to Earth because of him. They lost two of their strongest fighters because America had to be over-dramatic and refuse to get over his trauma.

" _America."_  Vale said sharply.

America heard the crunch of boots on stone and looked up, meeting Hazel's eyes. A twinge of pain went through his head and hopelessness washed through him.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Hazel's brow furrowed.

" _Good. Keep him off-balance."_  Winter encouraged.

Her compliment vanished from America's thoughts like water down a sewage drain.

"You should kill me." America said conversationally. "I'm a murderer. I killed my friend."

He heard Ruby gasp.

" _He doesn't mean it, Ruby."_  Weiss said quickly.

America's lips curled because he did. He really  _did_. "It's all my fault, you know. Blake fought that Grimm because it was after me."

Hazel said nothing. His expression was stiff. Not pitying but… upset. Almost  _angry_. Like he was doing something he did not want to…

America had to laugh at his expression. "So go ahead! Kill me, capture me, torture me. I don't care. Do you worst. I  _deserve_  it."

Hazel still remained silent. He studied America's features with his calm eyes, and the nation wondered what he saw there. Rather than lunge for America, Hazel instead stayed in place, hands loose and uncurled at his sides.

"I told you before that I don't want to hurt you, America."

" _Any visual on the others?"_  England asked sharply.

America thought he saw something move in the cave his brother was hiding in.

" _No."_  Ruby responded.  _"Should we attack?"_

" _Alfred, keep talking."_ Winter commanded.

"You're lying." America told Hazel. "Everyone wants to hurt me. My enemies, my friends, even my own family."

England gasped.

" _Focus, Arthur."_  France said tersely.

Hazel frowned. "Your family?"

America nodded, stomach twisting with guilt as he remembered what England tried to trick him into doing. "Arthur almost severed the connection between me and Vale's people. All of them would have wasted away or died, including a couple of my friends. He didn't intend to hurt Ruby or Yang but that's what would have happened. It was pretty bad." His head tipped thoughtfully. "Ozpin is worse though."

Hazel's eyes darkened. "I know."

America eyed him tiredly. It was hard to remember why he had felt so scared before. Now he just felt drained.

"What did he do to you?" he asked more out of politeness than anything. "He tried to sacrifice me. As in literally sacrifice me. Special altar, cutting out my heart, and everything. Just for more power." America laughed again, even though it was not very funny. "Just goes to show how selfish people really are. They don't care about anyone except themselves."

America registered his own words and was swallowed by guilt. How could he  _say_  something like that? People could be selfish and cruel but many were selfless and heroic. Hell, he was willing to die for them, even the bastards that cut him up and experimented on him because of their own pride—

**Pain**  lanced through America's skull, splitting it apart, and he screamed. He collapsed in front of Hazel, still screaming, and barely heard Jaune's cry through the communicator.

" _What's wrong with him?"_

" _I don't know!"_  Yang snapped.

" _Move. MOVE!"_  Winter shouted.

_Oh_ _**look** _ _they were going to play the hero—_

_No no_ _ **no!**_ _They_ _ **couldn't**_ _help him. They couldn't sacrifice themselves for him like Blake_ —

_They're going to die just like her. For_ _**nothing** _ _._

_How could I think that about Blake? I'm an awful person. I should have died instead..._

America's vision went grey with pain and he lost track of the world. All he knew were cynicism and despair as they fought inside his head, gleefully yanking him between disdain and sorrow like his body was a length of rope. Even Vale's voice became muffled and distorted, yet America could just hear her crackly voice.

" _Roman and Salem. It's Roman and Salem. They're here. They're_ _ **here!**_ _"_

No one but America heard her warning. He forced his burning eyes open to see Penny, Pyrrha, and England fighting Hazel. Romano was already slumped near the wall, with Ren struggling to rise not far from him. Because it was  _not_ just Hazel there. Salem stood calmly beside her henchman, casually deflecting their enemies' attacks. A blast of darkness struck Italy and he crumpled, head lolling to the side.

America must have gasped, because red eyes focused on him and Salem smiled. His knees buckled and tears streamed down his cheeks. Blake died because of him. Now the others would die as well. All because he was so incompetent he could not lift a finger to defend himself as Salem's shadows lunged for him.

Pyrrha blocked the shadows before they could reach America and was slammed into the stone wall for her efforts. America made to rise but a weight of melancholy fell upon him, keeping him in place. Why bother fighting? Pyrrha made her choice. Her fate was out of his hands. Why play the hero for people who would happily watch him die—

_No no no—_

" _Fight it!"_  Vale begged him.  _"You know what they're doing. Fight them!"_

America tried. He really  _tried_  but it was like trying to hold back two rivers with his bare hands. Just as he gained some semblance of resistance against Salem's induced despair, Roman's cynicism would make him give up. Just when he pushed past the disinterest, foreign grief and sorrow would drown him in their waves. He was being pounded from both sides, leaving him battered and unable to breathe as his skull split open, and his consciousness wavered, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

The snap of breaking metal jolted him back into his body and he saw Hazel had broken one of Penny's swords. He grabbed the robotic girl in a chokehold from behind. It did little to hinder her but no matter how she struggled and stabbed, Hazel did not budge. Instead his grip tightened and America heard the creak of metal under strain. Apathy and despair were swallowed by panic.

"Don't!"

He lunged for Penny but Ren reached her first. The ninja kicked Hazel in the face and yanked her from his grasp. Hazel stumbled slightly, and a sense of calm washed over America and for a moment, he could  _breathe_. Salem idly looked away from the shadows that pursued England.

"There you are."

Darkness flared and Ren was thrown through stone. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he struck the wall and pink Aura flared. He fell fifty feet to the ground, and America's brief glimpse of hope fell with him.

Salem smiled. "Do not disappoint me, Roman."

The air shifted, growing heavier, and everyone stopped fighting. Weapons lowered, eyes glazed with annoyance, and Pyrrha stopped mid-run, looking to her fallen teammate dispassionately. America himself felt numb and tired. Oh, of  _course_  they cared about Ren's injuries. Whenever it was him, it was just another day.

" _Fight it."_  Vale pleaded.

America winced and clutched at his head. He tried to act, to move, to speak, but grief washed over him and he fell to his knees. Ren was dead Ren was  _dead_  just like Blake  _he was dead—_

Penny stepped in front of him. Two of her swords were gone, and a third sparked as it hung limply from its wire.

"Ruby, if you can spare someone from fighting Mercury Black, Adam Taurus, and the Grimm I require assistance."

Something in the distance exploded, sending black smoke into the air.

" _Busy. Save yourselves."_  Ruby grunted breathlessly and disconnected.

Penny did not reply. Pyrrha was standing near Ren, staring at nothing. England was frozen in place other than the occasional twitch. France was on the ground, as limp as a corpse with wide blue eyes that almost appeared dead. Shadows crept over them like chains, holding them in place, and none of them made any effort to escape them.

Penny faced Salem and Hazel alone.

"Where is Roman Torchwick?" Penny asked. "Data indicates he needs to be nearby in order to utilize his Semblance."

Salem ignored her. Her eyes never moved from America. "Destroy the robot."

Hazel grimaced. "Yes, ma'am."

Penny's swords shot towards him but he grabbed the wires and yanking them. Penny lurched and was dragged forward, feet skidding on the dusty ground. She twisted and kicked at Hazel but he caught her foot and slammed her into the ground. The stone shattered, leaving a crater, and America heard something  _crack_.

Hazel released Penny but she did not move. Penny lay face down on the ground, body sparking, and America's breath froze in his chest. Her limbs jerked and she struggled to lift herself up.

Salem walked over and stepped on Penny's head, forcing it back down. She grabbed a few of her slashing swords by the wires and yanked them, snapping them off. Penny's eyes went round and America could imagine the error messages flashing through her processors. Salem tossed the swords aside and looked down at Penny. Her lip curled.

"What an abomination."

Her foot pressed down and Penny screamed.

" _Stop!_ "

America's plea echoed through the gorge. He struggled into a sitting position and shuddered beneath the weight of his failures. The cynical haze yanked on the spiked chains it had stabbed into his heart but it was swallowed by his fear. Unable to muster the strength to stand, he reached pleadingly towards Salem.

" _Don't_  hurt her." he choked, unable to stop his tears.

"Alfred, do not—" Penny screamed again as Salem pressed her weight down on the her skull.

England lurched forward a step but the shadows dragged him down to his knees.

Salem sighed, only the softest exhale, and a dark Aura flared over her skin. It burst outward like an explosion, tearing through the air with a noise too comparable to human screams. It struck each of the trapped fighters with the force of a tidal wave, and they fell where they stood, limp and unmoving. Only America and Penny remained conscious. As Salem looked down at the robotic girl, America had an idea why.

" _Don't_." He whispered. He was unashamed to admit he sobbed.

Salem looked bemused. "I do believe they're immobilized. "

She looked directly at America, expression unreadable, and slowly leaned so her weight settled on Penny's head. The robotic girl's shrieks gained an unnatural, high pitch and America's skin crawled. He tried to get up but the air was too heavy, pinning him down. He tried again to rise but gravity slammed down on him like a foot on his back, keeping him there. He pointed a quivering hand at Salem but his vision darkened and blurred. His hearing remained cruelly clear as Penny continued to shriek.

"Stop." he choked. " _Stop it!_ "

A blur crossed his vision and Hazel lurched in front of Salem, blocking Ozpin's blow with his forearms. America caught a glimpse of hazel and realized it was not Ozpin in control, but Oscar. The boy did a back-flip and landed solidly on his feet, holding his cane at the ready. Hazel straightened and frowned at him, before recognition crossed his face. While her henchman looked murderous, Salem looked unnervingly unconcerned.

"Ozpin." Hazel spat the name with such vitriol that a chill went up America's spine.

Although the large man dwarfed him in size, Oscar met his gaze unflinchingly. "I am  _not_  Ozpin."

"He is. I can sense him." Salem murmured.

Darkness flickered over her frame, exploding outward. Oscar knelt, cane striking the ground, and the darkness slammed into an emerald green shield. It faded and he stood, cane flicking into his palm, but Salem was  _smiling_. Then she began to  _laugh_. It was joyful and cruel, like the kind a sadistic child gave as they killed ants.

"That's all you can muster? A measly  _shield_? Once you would have burned the forest down in your counterattack. What happened to all the power you wielded for so long? Is it  _gone_?"

Salem continued to laugh, almost hysterical in her mirth. Seeing the normally regal Queen so overcome by her amusement was almost worse than seeing her angry. It was unsettling, because deep down America knew it was because she could  _afford_  to lower her guard in the middle of this battle. It meant no one present was a threat to her. America was not the only one disturbed. Oscar shifted warily, eyes never straying from the Queen of the Grimm.

"I cannot  _believe_  I feared you for so long." Salem continued amidst her laughter. "You're  _weak_ , Ozpin. I do not even  _need_  to kill you." She stopped laughing, as abrupt as a snapped neck, but her sharp smile remained. "Hazel, do what you wish."

The large man's expression was blank as he walked slowly towards Oscar. The boy did not back up, holding his cane defensively, though he did move slightly to the right— between America and Hazel. America's fear nearly made him black out and he struggled against it. What was Oscar doing? He could move, and seemed unaffected by Salem and Roman's influence, so why wasn't he running?

"I'm not leaving you." Oscar said, and America realized he had spoken out loud.

His response never came as Hazel stabbed orange Dust into his forearms and fiery Aura flared over his frame. He sped towards Oscar and the boy dodged, getting him twice in the abdomen. Hazel grunted but did not slow down, grabbing Oscar by the arm and slamming him into the floor. America saw the boy's lips part in a silent gasp of pain before he kicked Hazel in the jaw, sending him staggering.

Oscar twisted to his feet and kicked Hazel in the side of the knee, bringing him down. Oscar would have stabbed him in the throat if not for his Aura. The blow did send Hazel stumbling, an a brief look of surprise crossed his face. He swung at Oscar with a fiery fist but the boy rolled aside, getting another hit in. The thud of the impact told America that if not for Hazel's Aura, the strike would have broken his ribs. Oscar dodged two blows and raised his cane as the end glowed green.

He halted in place and flinched, hand twitching towards his head.

" _Stop_. I've got this." he grunted.

His distraction cost him and America  _never_  hated Ozpin more.

Hazel grabbed Oscar by the throat, skin alight with flames, and the boy screamed in pain as fire flared around him. Hazel smashed him into the ground and his Aura flickered dangerously, fading away. Hazel released Oscar and left him on the ground. Oscar gasped quietly, curled up in pain, and Hazel looked at his fallen foe… and hesitated.

Slowly, he exhaled, and the orange light faded from his eyes. Solemn hazel irises locked with hazel filled with fear and he slowly shook his head, almost in disappointment.

"You're not worth killing."

There was something more than an insult there, lurking in his quiet disbelief and almost pained tone. It was as if he had prepared himself to fight a bloodthirsty, maneating tiger, only to find its cub instead. Oscar tried to push himself up but Hazel grabbed his throat and—

America watched Oscar's body fall limply to the ground. He stared at him unblinkingly, mind scrambling for clarification that did not come as it tried over and over to make sense the past few seconds. Oscar was  _not_  dead. He was not dead. America did not hear his bones  _crac_ — There was no sound. So he was not dead. He wasn't. He  _wasn't_.

Silent tears trickled down America's cheeks.

Salem did not even spare Oscar a glance. "Roman."

Roman jumped casually down from the top of the gorge, twirling his cane twice before leaning on it. Despite his flamboyant entrance, his skin was ashen and his hand trembled. He also did not speak.

"The collar." Salem said, voice clipped.

Roman grunted and pulled a metal circle from his bag along with metal cuffs much like the ones they had forged for Oscar. Terror rushed through America but detachment replaced it. They were just metal. God, why did he have to overreact about  _everything_? It wasn't like he could escape anyway. He never did. Despite his annoyance, America's gaze never strayed from Oscar's unmoving body, even as Roman approached. Metal manacles locked around America's hands and a collar clicked shut around his throat.

Roman's brief grin turned into a grimace. "Red's realized something's up and is fighting back. Can we hurry it up?"

America passively allowed Hazel to lift him over his shoulder.

Salem jerked, curling in on herself, and gritted her teeth. "This form will not last much longer.  _Leave_."

Hazel took off at a run with Roman staggering after him. They exited the gorge and kept on going. America was more irritated at the rough jostling than anything else. He should complain, but that took too much effort, you know? Not to mention they might take it the wrong way. He had to ensure his survival, and he'd rather not get a bruised face.

A voice reached his mind, distant and muffled like it was coming from under water. " _Fight them! Alfred! Alfred, come on!"_

Scratch that, Vale was more irritating than Hazel's roughness.

Roman abruptly took America's Scroll from his pocket and the communicator from his ear and chucked them into a river they passed. The criminal looked pained, as if he were walking on knives. Served him right for throwing America's stuff. Asshole.

It was not until Adam Taurus and Mercury Black arrived that Roman's strained expression faded into his usual flippant facade.

"Hey, Merc. We're old pals, right? Catch me."

Blue eyes rolled back and he fell. Mercury caught Roman before he could hit the ground and hoisted him onto his shoulder.

America's unnatural cynicism vanished in a blink. Terror rushed through America like an explosion of ice. He thrashed in Hazel's hold and screamed, beating his bound fists against the man's large back. Hazel ignored him like a bear ignored a tiny mouse and plowed ahead.

"Keep going."

"You're the boss." Mercury said.

Adam did not respond, though his masked gaze never strayed from America. America kept on screaming, partially out of fright because  _he-was-in-enemy-handsohgod_  but mostly out of the desperate hope that he would alert someone to his predicament. He tried to flare but drugs plunged into his veins, paralyzing him and leaving him as useless as a rag doll.

As his body went limp, none of his fear came from Salem's manipulations. His fear was all his own, as were his desperate sobs.

Ozpin had warned them about Salem's ability to manipulate and enhance negative emotions. Romano told them about Roman's Semblance, which allowed him to implant cynicism, apathy, and cold worldview in others. They had experienced those powers firsthand, yet they were still unable to defend themselves against them. They did not comprehend what they were facing until it was too late, and now America was— was—

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening._

" _Alfred,"_  If Vale had a face, America knew it would be stained with tears.  _"Use the spell while you have the chance."_

America shuddered and thrashed hysterically, kicking at Hazel. Hazel shoved the collar into his neck and he went limp again.

_Not happening,_ he thought desperately.  _Not happening. This isn't real._

He could not be captured like this. Not after fighting so miserably. Not with half his friends distracted and the other half unconscious. Not with Oscar hurt and Salem looming over Penny—

" _Alfred, please."_  Vale begged.  _"We've been_ _ **captured**_ _."_

America swallowed. Captured. They were  _captured_. Like  _Canada_. His skin went cold.  _What will they do to Mattie if I—_

" _He'd want you to avoid_ _ **torture**_ _."_  Vale said shakily.

America knew she was right. Canada would want him to use the spell. He shut his eyes, and felt the tears trickling down his cheeks.

_Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinque, sex, septem—_

"How far do we have to travel until we reach Emerald's teleportation point?" Mercury asked.

America's breath caught and he stopped counting. It may be a good thing his body was paralyzed so he did not stiffen. They did not have a portal to Salem?

"Six days' walk away. Five if we hurry." Hazel said shortly.

Mercury scoffed. "Of course it is. The one time Emerald's too busy with her new plaything to come along..."

He glanced sidelong at America and he felt his skin blanch. Canada. He was talking about Canada. Emerald was  _torturing_  Canada—

" _And she'll_ _ **torture you**_ _if you don't use the spell."_ Vale said harshly.

America's shakes were smothered by another injection. He went limp and stared blankly at Hazel's back. Gone were the tears of fear, replaced by tears of frustration. It could not end like this. It just couldn't.

If America had any say, it  _wouldn't_.

_I can't. Not yet. We have six days._

Six days for rescue or escape.

Six more days to  _try_ —

" _They're taking you to Salem. The_ _ **real**_ _Salem."_  Vale snapped.  _"Do you really think we can escape now?"_

_We have to try. This is our_ _**last chance** _ _, Amber._

It hit them both then, that this may be it.

Either they escaped, or they used the spell to sleep until they died.

Vale's terror jabbed at his heart but she took a shuddering breath.  _"Okay."_

When control returned to his limbs, America did not try to get away. He shut his eyes and let his body go limp. Hazel reached for the collar but lowered his hand without injecting him. Just like last time, the collar did not have an infinite number of doses. America knew he did not have enough firepower— or more accurately, lightning— left to boil the substance to vapor. But the situation was not hopeless. He refused to believe it could end this way.

They still had a chance.

There was still a  _chance_  for rescue or escape.

He  _had_  to believe that.

Belief was all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it is fun to write characters messing up. Particularly when both sides do it. The heroes set an ambush that failed horribly, and the villains can't use their instant-win condition because their teleporter was too busy with personal vengeance to come along for their mission.
> 
> In case it was not clear in-story, Roman made it so the outer squad did not care enough to come to the inner squad's assistance, while simultaneously slamming the inner squad (primarily America) with his cynicism Semblance, while Salem is also emotion-slamming everyone. The losses they suffered just made them that much easier to manipulate.


	31. Prisoners

"—this shape is the footprint of a Lampbearer. They're very small but quite dangerous to travelers and children. They have a light in their hands and make their victim believe they are being led to safety, when they are actually being led to the pack."

"Lampbearer." Finland murmured, adding the sketched picture of the thin, one-toed foot to his folder. "What about this one?" he asked, pointing at the reptilian footprint.

The Atlas soldier grimaced. "The Lolong Grimm. They're essentially huge crocodiles. They like to lurk in lakes and rivers."

Finland grimaced. "Wonderful. What are their weaknesses?"

"They're extremely susceptible to poison. We could never keep a body to figure out why. Any type of poison will take them out, even ones most organic species are immune to."

"Okay." Finland said, and added the Lolong to the list. He looked back at the pages filled with notes and sighed. "There's so many Grimm we didn't know about..."

"Don't feel bad. It took our world decades to identify so many, and we are still finding new types to this day."

Finland smiled. "Thank you again for your help."

The soldier shifted uncomfortably. Finland did not feel as bad as he once did. Despite the man's willingness to help, he was still a prisoner and needed to be treated with caution. He still had not given them his name— or any names— but he was perfectly willing to share his encyclopedic knowledge on Grimm. It had already saved the Europe-stationed team when they ran into a horde of piranha-like Grimm on a previous mission.

The door creaked open and Finland looked up, expecting Germany or China with food. Instead an empty-handed Russia stood there, expression smooth and unreadable. His violet gaze settled on the soldier and a wide grin crawled across his face.

"I heard they had one of you here." Russia said.

He lunged for the soldier and closed his hands around his throat. Finland yelled and sprang for Russia, landing on his back and yanking him off the soldier. Russia balked, startled by Finland's show of strength, but shoved him away. Finland hit the floor but rose back up, jumping on Russia and locking his arms around his neck. They crashed into the table, breaking it to pieces.

Russia released the soldier with a grunt and Germany raced in. Finland dropped to the ground and Germany tackled Russia, tripping him with Finland's body. Switzerland rushed in to help and together they pulled Russia out of the room. Finland watched the door slam shut and panted, brushing his hair out of his face. The soldier was still on the floor, eyes wide and stunned.

"Are you okay?"

The soldier schooled his expression. "I am unhurt."

His voice came out slightly raspy and Finland winced in sympathy. He signed at the camera for someone to grab some ice and picked up one of the unbroken chairs. He nudged the soldier into it.

"Let me see."

The soldier lowered his hands, revealing skin that was already turning purple.

Finland winced. "Someone's getting you ice."

"Thank you."

The silence stretched on between them and Finland felt his heart sinking. He knew Russia had been told about the soldier and what they were doing with him. Why would he attack the man when he knew they were trying to keep the fragile olive branch between them?

"I don't understand." the soldier murmured.

"I don't understand either." Finland admitted. "Ivan is terrible but not  _that_  terrible."

"That is not what I mean." The soldier slowly shook his head and met Finland's gaze. "You made sure the agents did not find me. And now you protected me from one of your own. Why?"

Finland's brow crinkled. "I don't want you dead."

The soldier studied his face, gaze trying to pierce his soul. "What do you want from me?"

Finland hesitated, but took the plunge. "Your friends may be in danger. The Grimm are hunting them, and soon they might stop going after isolated people and begin attacking civilians to get to them. That's why we need to find them first."

The soldier looked away from him.

"We don't want to hurt your world." Finland said quietly. "We never have. All we want is to end this war. We want to save as many people from Salem as we can. That includes your allies, if they are willing to work with us." He gripped the folder of Grimm intel and leaned forward, expression earnest and slightly pleading. " _Please_ , give us some names before more people die."

The soldier hesitated. "...My name is Copper Brantley."

Finland grinned. "I'm Tino."

XXXXXXX

Outside of the room, Russia smirked as he observed the interaction through the camera. "I told you that would work."

Germany gritted his teeth and did not respond.

XXXXXXX

The day turned into a night as black as pitch yet they did not stop running. America had long gotten used to his leg being jostled and barely winced as bolts of pain shot up the broken limb. He was so quiet and passive that from an outsider's perspective, Hazel's group may appear to be a team of Huntsmen carrying their injured away from a mission-gone-wrong and not the kidnappers they were.

Roman had regained consciousness a few hours back but remained as white as his coat. Mercury carried him with little complaint. Even Adam was silent and focused, a far cry from the raving extremist America expected.

America's best guess as to why they were so unified was that they were either scared of Salem, or of Hazel. Neither boded well for America. It was disconcerting that they were so calm after capturing him. There was no gloating or gleeful threats of violence. There was only the single-minded desire to put as much distance between themselves and their pursuers as possible.

_If they're even conscious yet…_  America pictured Oscar's limp body and trembled.  _Don't think about it._

Upon realizing he was moving, he froze, keeping as still as he could and waited with bated breath for the prick of a needle. The large man did not reach up and drug him and he relaxed, relieved his involuntary shiver had not been taken as a prelude to an escape attempt. To be honest, he was not sure he could escape even if he managed to ignore his broken leg. His limbs felt heavy and his throat strained in a way disconnected from the drugs that had been forced into him.

"Son of a  _bitch!_ " Mercury bellowed. He shoved Roman off his shoulder, mouth twisted with disgust. "He  _puked_  on me."

Romano lifted himself onto his hands and knees and vomited again. He wiped at his mouth and stumbled to his feet, swaying slightly.

"I'd like to see you use your Semblance on over a dozen people at once." he croaked. "See how you feel."

Mercury sneered at him and tore his shirt off, heading to the river. The water flowed peacefully by, much too slowly for a human to be pushed downstream. America knew because he considered jumping in to try to escape. Mercury washed his shirt, ignoring Adam as the Faunus stopped behind him.

"Hurry up."

Mercury glared at him. "Don't tell me what to do."

Adam's hand twitched towards his sword but upon glancing at Hazel, he did not unsheathe it. Hazel stopped walking and grabbed America's collars, both metal and fabric. America froze but let Hazel lift him from his shoulder like a newborn puppy. Hazel set him down but kept a firm grip on the drug-injecting collar. His large hand almost went completely around America's throat. His fingertips only needed another inch and they would be touching. Barely daring to swallow, America kept his weight on his left leg and tried not to move too much. He could not run, and they all knew it. He was physically unable to.

" _Salem knows what she's doing."_  Vale acknowledged begrudgingly.

_Not enough to force Emerald to come with these guys,_  America thought and felt a little better.

"We stop for three hours." Hazel stated. "Then we're moving again. Adam, please watch for our pursuers."

Adam frowned but inclined his head.

"I'll guard Blue." Roman said. He grinned at America and his scar distorted his features. "We have some catching up to do."

America's stomach ached where Roman had shot him but he met the criminal's hate-filled gaze firmly. In hindsight, Roman's betrayal was nothing compared to Atlas, Polendina, the soldier, and Salem's actions. America was terrified of many of his enemies and what they could do to him, but a low-life thug like Roman Torchwick was not going to be on that list.

Roman's face darkened. He walked up to America and grabbed him by the hair, holding his head still. "Since the boss will be upset if we lose him, how about we make it more difficult for him to escape?"

Roman flicked open a switchblade. America jerked back, colliding with something hard behind him. He only realized Hazel was no longer holding his neck when the man grabbed his shoulder instead. Trapped between Roman and Hazel, America frantically searched for an escape, only daring to move his eye because one wrong move would leave him paralyzed and completely helpless.

Hazel's fingers tightened on his shoulder and… he shoved America behind him? The grip on his shoulder remained, tight and slightly painful, but America stared at Hazel's back, taken aback by his new position.

"Stand down, Roman." Hazel growled. "Maiming him is unnecessary."

Roman's scowl vanished, replaced by a charming smile. "I do love your optimism, Hazel, but here's the thing: If you mess up now, you'll get a lecture and sent to your room. If Mercury or I mess up, we're  _Grimm food_. So pardon me for wanting little Blue to stay with our merry band of misfits." Blue eyes flicked to America, filled with malice. "Besides, it's not as if he needs to  _see_  in order to unlock the Vault—"

"He  _won't_  escape." Hazel interrupted.

His hazel eyes pinned America in place, and the certainty in them chilled the nation to the core.

Hazel looked back at Roman. "Get some sleep. We move in three hours."

Roman's smile twitched and America could tell he was clenching his teeth. "If Adam's watching the camp, who is watching Blue? We have that nifty collar and chains but we don't have something to tie him to. I'd offer to break both his legs but that hasn't slowed him down."

It was obvious Roman was itching to have some one-on-one time with their prisoner.

Hazel was not stupid. "I'll watch him. He'll sleep with me."

Roman laughed. "Oh really? I had no idea he was your type."

Hazel shot Roman a look of utter contempt. Other than that, he did not react. Adam took a position in the treetops while Roman and Mercury laid out blankets. America would laugh at the similarity of it all if these people were not his enemies. There would be no luxury for any of them and America wondered why Roman did not complain.

" _He's probably more scared to press Hazel's buttons than he's letting on."_  Vale mentioned.  _"His life isn't exactly a priority to Hazel."_

America recalled Hazel's disgust and had to agree.

"At  _least_  blindfold Blue." Roman cajoled. "He's plotting. I can see it in his not-blind eye."

America glared at him but stiffened as he heard the sound of tearing cloth. His glasses were lifted from his face by large fingers and slipped into his pocket and Ruby's eyepatch was pulled down to hang around his neck. Dark fabric settled over his eyes, nearly covering his nose, and blocked out all light.

America bit his lip, stifling a panicked wheeze, and tried to be grateful they had not gagged him too. Did they want him to be able to talk for some reason? America swallowed hard and reminded himself that he had the spell if Hazel's stance on torture changed. Hazel grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. America felt his toes settle on something slightly softer than the ground.

A blanket?

"Lay down." Hazel requested.

America considered saying no. He considered resisting. But he had no Semblances, little strength, no chance of limping away even if he got out of Hazel's reach, and remembered Hazel would not feel it if he punched him in the face. He laid on the blanket without protest, facing away from where he could hear Roman's mocking voice.

Hazel's footsteps did not recede. Instead they approached, and the man settled behind him. A large arm wrapped around America, pinning him down, and his face drained of color. Apparently when Hazel meant his prisoner would remain with him, he meant  _with_  him.

America could see the logic of keeping his prisoner so close that he could not sneeze without waking his captor. There were only four of them, and they could not exactly tie America to a tree or leave him in unattached chains and hope he would stay. He should also be terrified that the man who kil— hurt Oscar was so close to him.

But instead of those things, America felt breath on the back of his neck and his thoughts skittered backwards to the ex-soldier's tortures and lacking sense of personal space. Despite himself, he stiffened, clamping his mouth shut to keep silent. Hazel felt him tense and sat up. Large hands grasped the blindfold, pulling it up to his forehead, and America struggled to keep his expression neutral. Solemn eyes studied America and something dark flashed through Hazel's expression.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"You already have." America whispered before he could stop himself.

Hazel acknowledged his statement with a grimace. "As long as you cooperate, you will not be put through unnecessary pain."

America opened his mouth to mention Hazel's capture of him involved a lot of physical, mental, and emotional pain but held his tongue. The thought that Hazel might also be keeping him so close in order to make sure the others— mainly Roman— did not harm their prisoner niggled at his mind.

If America were smarter and sneakier, he could use this. He could manipulate things to make himself appear weaker and more fearful, playing up his part as the victim he did not want to believe he was. That could trigger Hazel's strange but rigid moral code, which may make him discard the idea of forcing America to remain so close beside him or even just make him lower his guard the tiniest bit, giving America the  _slightest_  better chance of escaping. Just a little distance could make all the difference.

But America did not have that in him. He simply decided to count his blessings that Hazel was not the kind of person who might use this situation to their advantage. Instead he said the first think that came to his mind.

"Like Oscar?"

If Hazel was angered by his response, he did not show it. America did not try to fight as Hazel put the blindfold back over his eyes. They laid down, and Hazel held him in place, chest against his back. Even after the uncomfortable exchange, America felt no awkwardness and little fear at the closeness. Maybe it was because Hazel was not the ex-soldier. Maybe Hazel was obviously the least likely to harm him out of all his enemies. Maybe America had grown used to people grabbing him like this. Maybe he was too numb to be scared by invaded personal space anymore.

Or maybe he barely registered that it was a living person that restrained him. To him, the arm around him may as well be another metal restraint like the ones covering his hands. A cold, unyielding restraint, with the man's body as the prison wall he was chained to.

It was almost funny.

Both he and Canada had been caught in a living cage.

A thought struck America— mercifully distracting him from his brother— and he shared it with Vale.  _You don't think Hazel has a touch-based Semblance, do you?_

" _I think his Semblance is the inability to feel pain, so no."_  Vale mentioned.

America breathed a little easier. If that was the case then Hazel could not paralyze him with a touch. Well, he could if he grabbed the collar but if America somehow got the cursed thing off he may stand a chance. America felt Hazel's breathing brush the back of his neck, each exhale deep and slow, but knew better than to think his captor was asleep. Laying there, America felt pathetically small compared to him. Yes, Hazel was physically larger than him, but that was not the problem.

_I've been captured_ _**again** _ _. And Oscar is— might be dead because of me._

America could not raise his hands to muffle his sob. He shut his eyes, determined not to cry even though the blindfold may hide his tears. Crying would not help. Freaking out would not help. He needed to  _plan_.

Again.

" _Hey. We've escaped before."_  Vale said sternly.  _"We can do it again."_

America's stomach twisted.  _Mattie saved me in the lab. Penny saved me from Polendina and Ironwood. Japan saved me from Atlas._

" _You saved yourself from Ironwood in the Institute."_  Vale reminded him.  _"You escaped him_ _ **and**_ _Hazel on the airship. If you're going to insist on remaining conscious, you're not allowed to give up, you hear me?"_

_Yeah_ , America thought, and he breathed a little easier. He took a shuddering breath.  _Okay. What do we know about each of these guys?_

He and Vale exchanged ideas until Hazel got up. They had a gist of what each of their enemies could do, but that was about it. Too quickly, they were moving again, with America slung over Hazel's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He heard the chirping of birds and realized it was dawn. Had his first day already passed?

" _There's still a chance."_  Vale reminded him.

_Right._

Hoping Hazel would not paralyze him, America shifted on the man's shoulder to try to get more comfortable. He felt his sleeve catch on something and his breath caught as he felt the cold sting of metal. America lowered his head to hide his shock.

He still had the sacrificial dagger?

XXXXXXX

Pyrrha woke to the smell of mud and the sound of Team RWB— Ruby, Weiss, and Yang arguing. She tried to sit up but her head swam and drums pounded behind her eyes. She pressed a hand to her forehead and attempted to rise again. Hands pushed her back down.

"Stay there, Pyrrha." Nora ordered. "Don't try to get up just yet."

Pyrrha wished Nora would stop hitting her in the head with her hammer. She reluctantly remained laying down, noting they were in a cave of some sort, and put a hand over her eyes. A warm hand slipped into hers and she lowered her arm to smile briefly at Jaune. He did not smile back.

"I'm alright." Pyrrha assured him.

Jaune's lips thinned.

" _We need to go after them!_ " Yang bellowed, startling Pyrrha into reaching for her weapons.

"And leave the injured behind?" Weiss demanded, with less volume but no less anger.

"We don't have a choice." Yang snapped.

"We  _do_. And dividing our numbers won't help anyone. Salem and Roman will shut us down the moment we get close."

"Ruby almost broke free—"

"Ruby is one person. You saw that they did to Oscar. She can't fight Salem's forces  _alone!_ "

"Alfred is facing them  _alone_  because  _we messed up!_ "

_Alfred_.

Pyrrha jerked into a sitting position and scanned the group desperately, searching for a familiar blond head. All she found was drawn faces, angry scowls, and hollow eyes. Arthur was pacing in a circle and muttering to himself with his book in his hand. Francis, Feliciano, Romano, and Jett watched him worriedly, with the last nation holding Cobalt Striker in both hands. Ren was sitting in a lotus position with his eyes firmly shut, while Sterlyn stood guard over Oscar. Or was he? Pyrrha noticed the boy was no longer in cuffs, yet he sat huddled in the corner as he stared blankly at the wall.

Alfred—  _America_  wasn't there.

Pyrrha's head swam but she pushed past the dizziness, ignoring Jaune's quiet plea for her to lay down. America was  _gone_. There was only one place he may be. But the last thing she remembered was falling unconscious—

"Where's Alfred?"

Arthur faltered and snarled a curse, storming over to a different part of the cave to begin carving again. Pyrrha ignored him, looking to Ruby's team.

"What happened? The plan—"

"Failed miserably." Yang spat.

Ruby shrank in on herself, but her sister failed to notice.

"Salem and Roman were there." Weiss said flatly. "And Adam and Mercury too. They attacked us with a horde of Grimm while Salem and Hazel went directly after you."

"Why didn't you break away?" Pyrrha asked, looking to Jaune for answers. "You knew Salem was after Alfred—"

"We hardly thought about Alfred, even when Salem showed up to distract us." Weiss interjected quietly. "She and Roman did not make us forget, but they made us…  _focus_  on the wrong thing."

"I just wanted payback for Blake." Yang whispered. "Adam was right  _there_. It was all I could think about." She lowered her head. "That's no excuse. Oscar was able to fight the emotion manipulation and went to help but Ozpin decided to be a  _bastard_  again and—"

" _Yang_." Weiss whispered lowly.

Yang glanced guiltily at Oscar and went quiet.

"None of us have an excuse, and all of us shoulder some blame." Winter said stiffly. Her normally pristine bun was in slight disarray, with more pieces than usual falling out to frame her face. "We acted rashly. I would like to think Salem and Torchwick were influencing us for a while in order to make us act so foolishly, but after..." Winter paused, deliberately not looking at the three remaining members of Team RWBY. "...recent events, none of us were at our most logical."

"And Alfred paid for it." Ruby said tonelessly.

Winter closed her eyes. Oscar's shoulders hitched with a repressed sob. Ren sat next to him and put a hand on his arm.

"So what now?" Pyrrha demanded. No one looked at her so she repeated her question. "What are we doing now? I'm awake, let's get moving and we can catch up—"

"Emerald can teleport." Pyrrha went silent at Arthur's cold declaration. He did not turn to look at her, his face hidden by the flickering shadows of their fire. "Salem already has America."

Spiked jaws closed around Pyrrha's heart. "We… We don't know if Emerald was there..."

Tear-stained cheeks turned towards her, revealing glassy green eyes and she trailed off. Arthur turned away and continued pacing.

"We've decided to continue to Beacon." Ruby said quietly. Her shoulders were slumped, every bit of cheer gone as if the weight of the world had settled on her small back. "We don't know where Salem is, but we know where she's going. Our best chance is to try to get to Beacon before she can."

"Beacon is still weeks away." Pyrrha whispered.

Ruby trembled and lowered her head. "I didn't say it was the best plan, o-okay?" she said, voice choked by repressed sobs.

Pyrrha did not have the heart to say more.

Oscar's eyes glowed gold.

"If it is any consolation, I put up numerous defenses around the Vault." Ozpin said softly. "It will take Salem weeks to get through them. Not to mention Alfred has Arthur's spell—"

Arthur's staff scratched the floor with a grating scraping noise. He halted in place and Pyrrha realized he had been drawing an array. He turned and stormed up to Jett, grabbing Cobalt Striker.

"Give that to me."

He yanked Cobalt Striker from Jett's hands and set it on the circle. He walked around it, muttering an incantation, and they waited with bated breath. Nothing happened. Arthur's hands twitched and he blasted the array apart. Cobalt Striker barely avoided the blast and rolled away, stopping at Jett's feet. He stiffly picked it up as Arthur grabbed his spellbook and began flipping again.

"There's something. There has to be  _something_."

He paced back and forth and began carving another circle. Pyrrha could not bear to watch him for long before she had to turn away. Bright orange caught her eye and her throat tightened as she saw the solitary figure at the cave's entrance. Penny was sitting alone at the edge of the cave, staring out at the rain. Her shoulders were slumped, like her spine had lost the strength to support her torso, and she did not acknowledge Pyrrha.

"Salem left her. Just like Oscar." Jaune whispered. "She just…  _left_  them and went to fight us. Like they did not even matter."

_Like they weren't worth killing_ , Pyrrha realized.

Pyrrha looked from the remnants of Team RWBY— who sat far from each other, Weiss with Winter and Ruby and Yang both alone— to her own team. Nora had settled by Ren, who sat in a lotus position with one hand on Oscar and the other on the ground. Pyrrha belatedly realized he was trying to muffle their emotions. She was not looking forward to the moment he stopped.

Jaune sat at her side, blue eyes dull and sorrowful. Pyrrha grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to Penny. The robotic girl did not acknowledge the two, and seemed ignorant to the turmoil behind her. Pyrrha sat beside her, watching the rain fall and flood the gorge below them. A few minutes passed before Penny spoke.

"It is raining. The physical trail is gone. The biochemical data trail is gone. There is no way to track which way Salem's faction went." She stared blankly into the distance as the rain continued to fall. "I failed at my mission. I failed Alfred."

Penny did not cry. She did not scream or rage. She only stared unblinkingly at the rain with eyes as grey as the cloudy sky.

Pyrrha could not think of anything to say.

XXXXXXX

The next day flew by like time was moving in fast-forward.

America could slowly feel his panic building with every step Hazel took. What if Hazel's predictions were wrong and they reached Emerald soon? What if Salem created another Grimm that could teleport straight to her? What if the next time they he was set down it was so he could be shoved through a portal to the Queen of the Grimm?

" _Breathe."_  Vale commanded him though she sounded close to hyperventilation herself.  _"We still have time."_

Hazel stopped walking.

America's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, of  _course!_ " Roman snarled. "There just  _had_  to be a landslide."

America released a shuddering breath and tried to calm his pounding heart. He heard Mercury walk onto what sounded like small stones. They rattled and crunched as they fell down.

"Looks like a mudslide from all that rain. We're not climbing over this." he reported.

"Around we go." Roman muttered.

"Perhaps." Hazel rumbled. He set America down. "Guard him while I look for a path."

Roman latched onto America's arm like a trap catching a mouse. "You're the boss."

America was overwhelmed by the desire to beg Hazel not to leave. He kept the foolish plea trapped inside his mind and listened to Hazel's footsteps recede. Barley a minute passed before Roman's grip on his arm tightened.

"Hey, Adam. You know Blake died for this guy, right?"

A spear of grief stabbed America in the chest and he flinched.

Adam's response was disinterested but cold. " _Don't_  say her name. And Blake died for that  _girl_ , not him."

Roman's laugh was just a little too high-pitched to be casual. "Right, right. My apologies—"

"I don't give a damn what you do to him." Adam snapped. "I'm keeping watch." His booted footsteps receded.

"Wonderful." Roman said delightedly. "Mercury, could you hold our mutual friend in place."

Arms wrapped around America and he tensed, struggling not to spark. If he was paralyzed now he was screwed. He heard Roman pace back and forth in front of him.

"Oh, I have been  _dreaming_  about this ever since I found out you lived. You're like a little cockroach. No matter how many times I crush you, you always pop right back. That's kind of your thing though, isn't it? With the immortality and all? But according to some very knowledgeable sources, maybe  _not so much_  anymore."

Roman halted and grabbed America's hair, yanking it, and the edge of a switchblade kissed his throat. America refused to make the slightest sound. He felt Roman's breath tickle his ear.

"I'm not normally that kind of guy but if I had my way, I'd show you what I can do with this knife. I'd make you look me in the eye as I stuck it in you and carved you up all pretty. I'd made you  _writhe_  beneath me in a pool of your own blood. I'd make you  _scream_ just like in my daydreams."

His free hand trailed up America's face, slipping beneath the blindfold. America shut his eye and felt Roman's fingers brush the edge of his eyelid. The criminal chuckled and removed his fingers.

"I know all about screaming." he murmured. "Do you know how I unlocked that little Semblance of mine? Well, let's just say it was  _torture_."

America did not repress his shock in time. Naturally, Roman misinterpreted it. He punched America in the jaw and the nation fell into Mercury, head swimming.

"Don't you pity me!" Roman spat. "I  _survived_. I evolved. But I only had to because  _you_  led Salem right to me." He grabbed America's hair and pressed the knife to the corner of his mouth. "What's wrong? Nothing to say? No apologies for you  _friend_?"

America leaned his head back as far as he could, trapped between the knife and Mercury. He braced himself and spoke, knowing his answer would only bring him pain. "I had nothing to do with that. Salem was after Mistral. She was hunting  _her_ , not me." His jaw clenched. "You talk about 'friends' but you're the one who  _betrayed Neo_  and gave her to Salem—"

Roman punched him again and America gritted his teeth, forcing his Aura to remain deactivated. He could not give the collar an excuse to paralyze him.

"They only found us because of  _you_." Roman snarled. "I was content to move on with my life since that fire bitch was dead, but then her boss's other lackeys decided to waltz in and ask about  _Vale_. It's kinda hard to deny you were with us when you left such a mark on me."

Roman grabbed America's hand, but upon remembering the nation's hands were covered by metal, he instead took hold of his face. America's cheek was pressed against something rough and lumpy, raised above the rest of Roman's skin. America could feel every jagged edge of Roman's scar and he could not repress a repulsed shudder.

"It doesn't feel nice, now does it? It looks even worse. It's hard to be a charmer when targets only notice the  _disfigurement_  on your face. It certainly made business more difficult. I had to get by with a new, rougher style. Well, I  _did_  before Salem decided to come say 'Hi.' Even my business was taken from me." Roman chuckled coldly. "You ruined my life. You ruined my empire. You gave me  _this_. I think I'm owed a little payback."

"Sorry. I don't have any money right now." America rasped sarcastically.

"Money isn't what I have in mind..." Roman snarled. He yanked at America's bound hands, making him stagger and fall to his knees. The criminal grabbed his head, yanking it back, and hummed mock-thoughtfully. "You look hungry. And you're all tied up so you can't feed yourself. How about I help you? After all, that's what  _friends_  are for."

America heard the sound of a bag being unzipped and the rustle of something being unwrapped.

"Open wide." Roman mocked.

Something pressed against America's lips. He kept them firmly closed, turning his head so it did not touch his mouth. Roman roughly grabbed his hair and turned his head forward, holding him in place. Again, Roman pressed the thing against his lips. From the small percentage of area America could feel, it was as big as a hamburger— much too big to fit all at once— and America knew Roman was itching to shove the whole thing in his mouth to choke him.

America could not identify the object— it might not even be food— and he was not about to lick the thing to find out what it was. Knowing Roman, he was trying to feed him something poisoned or disgusting. His only consolation was it wasn't Grimm ooze. It was much too warm and hard for that.

Roman snarled impatiently. "Hazel can't have you starving so I don't think he'll mind if I  _force_  something in that big mouth of yours. So be a good boy and  _open up_."

America kept his mouth closed. Roman grabbed his throat, squeezing it, and he instinctively gasped for air. The criminal rammed the thing into his mouth and it hit the back of his throat, making him gag. He lurched, unable to breathe, or even process what he was tasting. His teeth failed to bite into it and he wheezed, unable to lift his hands enough to remove it.

America choked feebly, feeling lightheaded. Roman let him struggle for a moment and scoffed. He grabbed the thing and yanked it out. America coughed, throat burning as he was finally given air. Roman released his hair and let him slump, still wheezing.

"Oh, I'm  _sorry_." Roman simpered. "Was that a bit too big for you? Here, let me help."

America heard something tear. Roman grabbed his head again.

"You try to bite me and I'll shove something  _much_  less pleasant in there." he threatened.

Keeping America held in place by his hair, Roman pressed a smaller object to his lips. America reluctantly parted his lips and flinched when Roman shoved the thing in, quickly withdrawing his fingers before America could consider biting them. The taste and texture was finally allowed to settle on America's tongue and he realized it was old, crusty bread with too much salt. He could only hope it was not poisoned as he swallowed it.

"It's too bad I don't have any of that essence to shove in you." Roman said conversationally as he forced another piece of bread into America's mouth. "That'd break you quick."

America tried to keep his expression blank as Roman fed him, not allowing his humiliation and fear to rise to the surface. He knew that was what Roman wanted, so he remained as stubbornly composed as he could manage. Not only that, but he was not about to deny himself food when it was unlikely he would be offered more anytime soon.

It was only when he no longer heard the tell-tale sound of bread being torn that he clamped his teeth down on Roman's fingers. The criminal swore and struck him across the face, sending him to the ground. America imagined him dancing around in pain and almost smiled. Sadly, Roman noticed.

A boot struck America's midsection and he crumpled. A hand struck his throat, cutting off his air and shoving the collar's needle into his neck in the process. Control abandoned America's limbs and he went limp, helpless on the ground. Something heavy settled on top of him and America heard the click of a switchblade. He felt Roman's smoke-scented breath wash over his face and something sharp pressed against his lips.

"You want to mess with me,  _huh_? Well, let's see how you like  _this—_ "

Roman's weight vanished. America heard the criminal yelp in pain.

" _Agh!_  L-Let go!" There was tremulous panic in Roman's choked voice and America could vividly picture the hand around his throat.

"What did I tell you?" Hazel growled.

"I wasn't  _hurting_  him." Roman claimed, but there was a soft plea in his strangled voice. "Just scaring him a little."

There was a pause, punctuated by Roman's harsh breathing.

"Don't do it again."

Something hit the ground with a thud and Roman coughed. Heavy footsteps approached America and Hazel grabbed him by the arm, lifting him off the ground. He set America on his feet but did not release his arm, holding him as he shakily regained movement in his limbs. Praying Hazel would not let him fall, America hesitantly leaned his weight to one side, keeping it off his injured leg. He felt the man's fingers shift around his forearm and realized there was no metal under the cloth between Hazel's hand and his skin. Where was the sacrificial dagger?

"Adam, Mercury, explain yourselves." Hazel demanded.

"I was standing guard." Adam said in a bored tone.

"I'm not Roman's babysitter." Mercury claimed.

Hazel's grip tightened. America bit his lip, feeling the bone strain. Hazel relaxed his hold but America knew he would have bruises later.

"I left to see if you are taking our mission seriously, and you immediately proved you are  _children_." Hazel told the three guards coldly. "Put your petty grievances aside and  _guard_   _Vale_ , as you are supposed to. If you think letting him come to harm now will be ignored, you are mistaken. I believe violence is unnecessary but  _Salem_  does not feel the same way."

The threat was clear. The reminder of his delicate situation silenced even Roman and he did not utter another complaint. America heard Adam growl but even he remained silent.

"Move." Hazel ordered, and the three obeyed.

America waited miserably to be lifted again, bracing himself for new aches in his arm or neck. Instead a gentle hand touched his arm.

"Are you in pain?" Hazel asked quietly.

America was, but not how he meant. "No. You stopped him."

Hazel grunted and gritted his teeth. "I shouldn't have left."

He said nothing more and simply lifted America onto his shoulder again, by his waist this time. America did not struggle, though he wished he could rub his aching throat. It could have been worse. If it were Cinder, Tyrian, or Watts in charge of the team it would have been much worse. But instead of standing by and allowing Roman to soften up their captive, Hazel stopped him. He shut Roman down, despite the resentment that must bubble up because of it.

America honestly did not understand why this man was working for Salem. He seemed dead set against torturing their prisoner, yet he was taking him to the Queen of Grimm for exactly that. Why? What did he get out of Salem's victory? America did not know, but one thing was for certain: Hazel was not like the others. Maybe America could use that to his advantage.

America swallowed a wave of nausea and sneezed. Choking must have left more damage than he thought because his throat felt dry and scratchy. He settled into a more comfortable position and felt something cold against his arm. The sacrificial dagger was back. Weird.

Vale's unease slithered through his mind.  _"I have a bad feeling about this."_

XXXXXXX

_Click click click._

The clicking Grimm was back.

Canada could hear it, but no matter where he looked he could not find it. His eyesight had sharpened and could easily see into the shadows, but he could not locate the clicker. It was  _maddening_. Without warning, Emerald and Salem had stopped coming to torture him a few hours… days… weeks... some time ago. They left Canada alone, without food or water, and this isolation would be a blessing if not for the  _clicking_.

_Click click click._

Canada's head snapped left and only his unblinking eyes moved as he scoured the darkness for the Grimm. His nostrils flared, but he could not smell its malice. When Emerald came to visit him, he could smell hers. Her hatred was as repulsive as it was enticing, and the dreams of tearing her apart were becoming more and more frequent.

Canada was no longer sure whether those violent urges were the Grimm essence, Salem's influence, or his own thoughts. He was beginning to suspect it was the latter case, because when left to his isolation, he had nothing else to keep him company.

A figure appeared in the shadows and even without his enhanced vision, he would recognize Salem instantly. Salem glided to him, hands clasped elegantly in front of her. She halted in front of Canada and looked him up and down, gaze focusing on his black-streaked chest. Without warning she lashed out. Her hand latched around his throat, her black fingernails digging into his flesh. Canada panted weakly and kept his gaze focused past her.

"Look at me."

Canada did not move.

Her fingernails dug into his throat, pricking his skin. Drops of blood trickled down his jugular.

" _ **Look at me**_ _._ "

Canada lowered his gaze and was trapped in cold red eyes.

Salem smiled. "I have good news for you, child. I need you alive a little longer."

The hand that was not holding his throat caressed the side of his face, briefly lingering on his forehead. Canada resisted the urge to shut his eyes, which burned the longer he refused—  _he could not afford_ — to blink. He could feel her icy touch not only on his skin, but  _in his mind_ , darkening his thoughts and emotions with the desire to warp him beyond recognition. His Adam's apple bobbed and he clenched his teeth to hold back a scream as the Grimm essence inside him shifted.

Salem gently patted his cheek. "Do not fear, child. Your brother will be joining you soon."

Her hand clenched, and Canada's anguished screams cut off.


	32. Now You'll Pay

" _England! Englaaaannnnd!"_

_England looked up from the book he was perusing as America rushed into his bedroom, pulling Canada along with him. The two little colonies' faces were filled with fright, and their bare feet scuffed along the wooden floor as they hurried over to England. America stopped next to the bed and pushed Canada onto it before clambering on himself. He nearly fell back to the floor but Canada grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the mattress._

_England watched them with bemusement. "What is it, poppets?"_

_The two colonies crawled over to England and tucked themselves against his sides. They may be opposites in many other aspects, but both clung to him with their small hands, looking up at him with violet and blue eyes that never failed to make his heart melt._

" _There's a monster, England!" America told him._

" _It's in the closet." Canada whispered._

_America nodded rapidly. "Yeah. I tried to fight it off but it was too scary so we came to get you."_

_England made sure to keep his expression solemn. "A monster, you say? Don't worry, I'll take care of it."_

_He put his book aside and lifted the twins before grabbing his sword. He would need something to 'fight' the 'monster' with, after all. America's eyes shone when he spotted the weapon and he reached for it. England carefully shooed his tiny hands away._

" _No, poppet. You're not allowed to touch that."_

_America pouted. "But if I have a sword I can defeat the monster."_

" _I'm sure you could." England chuckled. "But you are my little brother. It's my job to protect you from monsters until you're big and strong."_

" _Like you?" America asked. His eyes held such awe it made England uncomfortable._

_England's cheeks reddened and he coughed. "Yes. Of course." He hesitated, looking down at the twins. "I need a free hand to fight the monster._

" _I'll hold onto your back." America said instantly._

_England set him on the floor and he scurried around, clambering up his big brother's back. His arms wrapped around England's shoulders._

" _I'll make sure the monster doesn't sneak up on you."_

_England's lips twitched. "Thank you, Alfred. Hold on." He clipped on his sword and rose to his feet, looking down at Canada. "Are you going to be alright there, Matthew?"_

_Canada nodded shyly and clung to the front of his pajamas. "Are you sure you can fight the monster? It's really scary. What if you get hurt?"_

_England sighed and petted his soft hair. "I assure you, I'm much stronger than the monster. No monster will defeat the great British Empire!"_

_The two colonies giggled. England sniffed at their amusement but headed to the twins' room. The hall of their home in America stretched in front of them, lit only by the light of the moon. England strode confidently to the door at the edge of the hall, and America's grip on him tightened. England frowned but did not ask. America would not admit he was scared even if he was promised sweets._

_England opened the door to the twins' bedroom. Their blankets were in disarray, with one of America's pillows laying on the floor. The closet door was partially open. England heard his little brothers' fearful gasps and raised his sword, holding Canada close to his body. The closet door creaked open._

_Red eyes looked out._

_Canada and America screamed._

_England sprang back, and it was only because of his retreat that he avoided the shadowy hands that sprang for him. They grasped at the open air, skeleton-like fingers flexing, and twisted unnaturally as they reached for him._

_Not him. The_ _**twins** _ _._

_England slashed at a shadow before it could grab Canada, but his sword may as well have been a chair leg. It shattered into pieces when it struck the monster's skin, only managing to divert its attack so its claws sank into the floor. Then the limb sank into the wood completely, and the floor writhed with thousands of arms of darkness. America was screaming. Canada was screaming._

_England ran. He jumped over snapping shadows, slid beneath another, running desperately towards the door that got further and further away with every step. He felt America clinging to his shoulders, but his small hands did not have a good grip and he began to slip. America fell with a soft gasp and England cried out. He caught America just as the shadows latched onto the back of his nightshirt and yanked him away before they could attach to his brother._

_America screamed, not in fear, but pain. Blood blossomed on his back and England realized the claws had raked across his shoulders. There was no time to tend to the wound. England clutched Canada and the sobbing America to his chest and kept running. The door was getting further away. No, it was_ _**shrinking** _ _. England's breaths came in desperate gasps. The door was too small for him to fit through, but his brothers could make it. They could still make it—_

_Canada vanished from his arms. The colony was completely silent as the hand around his waist plucked him from England's grasp and pulled him towards the closet, where the red eyes were waiting. A pale, black-veined hand reached out from the darkness, patiently waiting for her prize, and too many shadows were between England and her._

" _Mattie!" America screamed, his own pain forgotten as he reached for his brother. "_ _ **Mattie!**_ _"_

_There were too many shadows. England knew if he tried to save Canada, he would lose America too. He would lose_ _**both** _ _of them. He shut his eyes and ignored the twins' screams, running towards the door. It was barely a foot wide now. America may just be able to squeeze through. England fell to his knees and pushed his brother towards it as the shadows rippled around them like a whirlpool._

" _Go, America!"_

_A teary blue eye stared at him. His other eye was covered in blood. "Mattie—"_

" _I'll rescue him." England lied. "_ _ **Go**_ _."_

" _No!" America screamed. He clung to England's shirt. "I'm not leaving you too!"_

_The shadows latched around his ankle. England lunged and his fingertips brushed America before his brother was whisked away into the darkness. England stared blankly at the blood on his fingertips and lowered his head. He curled up on the ground, screaming into the darkness as it prepared to consume him._

_White light flared, and the shadows were gone._

_England looked up, blinking rapidly, and saw… Japan? The nation looked as confused as he did, glancing around the bedroom with a slight crinkle between his eyebrows._

" _England? What…?"_

_England did not respond. He watched the shadows retreat into nothing. He watched the red eyes fade._

_His brothers did not come back._

_Not caring that Japan was there, England sobbed into his hands. He did not save America. He did not save Canada. He failed them._

_England looked at Japan, letting his tears fall._

" _Salem has them both."_

_Japan's eyes widened and he gasped—_

And England woke up. He stared at the clear blue sky— blue like America's eyes— and squeezed his own back shut. A hand on his arm had him reaching for his staff. Penny was not intimidated by the weapon.

"Arthur Kirkland. We are leaving our current location and continuing on to our destination."

England grunted in acknowledgment and shoved her away. She retreated without comment, but lingered at his right shoulder. It took much of England's control not to snap at her. After America— After America was captured, Penny had latched onto England like a burr in his hair. Lingering, unwanted, and no matter how hard he tried to untangle himself from her, she refused to leave.

The fact that she was the only Remnant native other than Pyrrha to come near England only made her presence more noticeable. The three remaining members of RWBY, Pyrrha's teammates, Winter, Oscar, and Sterlyn all kept their distance from England, and to some extent the other nations. Ruby and Yang even more than the others.

England suspected why. He did not give a damn. They could keep wallowing in guilt for all he cared.

Just like him.

England grabbed his bag and shoved it onto his shoulder. He nearly smacked into Penny, who remained at his shoulder like an infuriatingly overprotective guard dog.

"Bugger off." England snapped.

Not bothering to wait for the others to be ready to move, he stormed ahead.

Penny followed.

XXXXXXX

Germany sat at the meeting room table, a forgotten cup of coffee cooling at his elbow and his head in his hands. The nations of AGATE were once again silent as their world was thrown off-kilter.

"Are you  _sure_?" Germany asked hollowly, with an exhausted sense of deja vu.

Finland's cheerful face was pale and drawn. "Absolutely. Unless he picked the name to cause us trouble..."

"We have to break into the White House." Prussia stated. He ignored Germany's warning look. "I'm serious. We can't afford to wait for the meeting. This man is a  _psychopath_." He slammed his fists into the tabletop, making it shudder. Red eyes glared at Germany, burning with rage. "He talked to you. He looked you in the eye and  _talked to you_ after he tried to  _murder_  you!"

"He sent that Atlas agent after—"

He paused as Japan hurried into the room. The normally punctual nation was pale-faced and looked exhausted. Germany had half a mind to order him to return to bed. It was clear that he had not recovered from Remnant yet. Germany repressed his instincts and looked back to his irate brother.

"The Atlas spy was sent after all of AGATE."

"The agent found  _you_." Prussia spat. "You, Hungary, Denmark, and Finland." His red eyes narrowed. "We need to stop him before he can try again."

"You're right."

Prussia blinked, taken aback. "I'm right?"

"You're right." Germany repeated. "You're absolutely right. We cannot afford to wait for our appointment with the President. We cannot invade the White House, however. We only need to meet with the President without our…  _friend_  finding out."

"The original meeting probably isn't a meeting at all." Spain murmured.

"It's probably a trap." Lithuania finished.

"Who wants to bet we'd meet a bunch of Atlas spies instead of the President." Hungary said drily.

"So we're back to square one." Prussia grunted. "We need to warn the President without alerting our spy friends."

The nations of AGATE looked at each other, angry, shocked, but also resolute.

Prussia leaned back in his seat. "Let's make a plan."

Once the meeting was over, Germany went to confront Japan. The subdued nation seemed to sense him coming and quickened his steps, retreating outdoors. Mindful of possible Grimm attacks, Germany hurried after him, only to hesitate in the doorway. He was already beginning to wish Italy was here. He had a feeling this conversation may be emotional, and both he and Japan were not the most emotional people. China proved to be an excellent substitute as he shoved past Germany with a low mutter about his incompetence.

Japan sat at the edge of the steps leading to America's backyard, staring into the trees with his head on his hand. He did not acknowledge China or Germany as they sat beside him, and Germany's uneasy feeling magnified.

"You were late today, Japan." China began without preamble. "Is everything alright?"

"I apologize. I slept late." Japan said vaguely. "I..." His gaze darkened. "...had a bad dream. At least… I  _hope_  it was a simple dream."

Germany frowned, and bit back a question of how a dream could be more than just a dream.

China had other concerns. "Japan, what happened in your dream? Dreams can sometimes reflect what our subconscious is thinking." He glanced pointedly at Germany in a silent suggestion to leave, but Germany ignored him.

"I was in a Western-styled house that was being devoured by shadows." Japan explained quietly. "England was there… and two young colonies that I believe were America and Canada. The twins were taken by the shadows, and they were about to envelop England when I did…  _something_. I cannot describe it. But the shadows retreated, and England began to cry. He..." Japan swallowed. "He told me Salem captured America."

The unease pooling in Germany's gut turned cold. It slithered through his stomach and up to his chest, taking his breath away. "It was just a dream." he said, and denied the instincts whispering that he should not ignore the truth. Those instincts were proven correct as Japan shook his head.

"I don't think it was. I've had similar dreams before with Canada. I... think I may have discovered my Semblance."

Rather than rejoice, or more likely incline his head in solemn acknowledgment as the reserved nation was wont to do, Japan lowered his head into his hands. Germany's logic-based mind refused to accept his claim as real, because if it was, then their situation had gone past bad to worse. He accidentally met China's stunned gaze, his eyes too dark compared to his ashen skin. Despite the horror creeping through his expression, China's will remained firm.

"I think we have our excuse to meet the President."

XXXXXXX

The universe wanted America dead.

That was the conclusion he came to when he woke cold and feverish next to Hazel. He coughed feebly, unable to cover his mouth, and licked his dry lips in an attempt to wet them. His tongue and throat felt like sandpaper had been taken to them. The way they ached, America would not be surprised if Roman found a way to shove something down his throat while he slept.

It had been four days since his capture. Four days, with only two left until they reached Emerald.

Time was running out, and as exhaustion that could only come from illness clung to his muscles and bones, America feared it may as well be over.

Hazel got up and America shivered pitifully, curling up under the blankets. A rattling cough shook his frame and he stifled a moan. He flinched as a cold hand pressed against his forehead but soon relaxed, enjoying the nice chill it brought to his burning skin. Hazel lowered his hand.

"You're sick."

"Vale's not doin' so good." America slurred.

He had noticed his health was deteriorating over the past few days. In fact, it had been deteriorating since before Blake— before the fight with that cage Grimm. But now his small fever had become a burning inferno, leaving his body aching and his mind muddled. His throat was raw, his mouth dry from constant coughing, his muscles felt stiff, and he was pretty sure his leg might be infected.

Maybe he should cough on his captors and try to make them sick. Maybe then he'd stand a chance against them.

Or maybe not. His head pounded like Nora was taking a sledgehammer to it and it felt like a ten thousand ton weight had been placed on his cheekbones. His chest felt tight and when he coughed, it was accompanied by a dry crackling sound from deep in his lungs. He would be more likely to faint than run. In fact, as Hazel lifted his boneless body onto his shoulder, America was not sure he had the energy to crawl.

" _Salem's doing this on purpose."_  Vale spat.

Without a body to call her own she, unlike he, felt no affects from the deterioration of her Kingdom, leaving America to shoulder all the pain and suffer for her. He knew this might happen, but had hoped it would not happen while he was captured by the enemy. At this point, maybe he should hope his heart gave out before they reached Salem.

" _We still have the spell."_  Vale reminded him sharply.

America blinked lethargically. "Oh, yeah."

"What was that?" Roman snapped.

America belatedly realized he had answered Vale out loud. He lowered his head, but despite Roman's caution after Hazel's threat, the criminal was still itching for any excuse to make their prisoner's life a living hell. He stepped behind Hazel and grabbed America's collar.

"Who are you talking to,  _friend?_ "

"No one." America whispered, acutely aware of the needle hovering millimeters from his skin.

"I think you're lying." Roman mocked. "You have another communicator, don't you?"

"No."

America's soft denial was ignored and Roman grabbed his head, turning it to look in his ears. Finding nothing, the criminal scoffed and looked to Hazel.

"He has a tech Semblance. He might be in contact with Red and the others. We need to search him." His hand trailed up and grasped the collar. "Can't have him using that Semblance again, though."

America wondered if Roman had forgotten that he could not use his Semblance without triggering the collar. It was more likely the criminal did not care. He felt the slightest prick and his insides shriveled.

"No." he mumbled. "No,  _please_ —"

Roman shoved the needle into his neck.

America's muscles seized and he vomited. Roman yelped and avoided the mess but Hazel was not so lucky. The man exhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep himself calm, and America's stomach twisted. Hazel set him down and he jerked out of the man's hold, stumbling backwards as his body fought the drugs it was so used to. Roman grabbed him and easily held him in place.

"Good job, Blue." he whispered sarcastically. "I think you pissed him off. Oi, Mercury. Come hold him."

Mercury grumbled lowly but obliged, grabbing America's arms from the front. Pain lanced up his broken leg and he slumped in Mercury's hold, gingerly balancing on his good leg. Behind him, Roman scoffed and grabbed his shirt. America heard the click of a switchblade. He pressed his bound hands to his chest in an attempt to keep the fabric from being torn away.

"Sorry." he mumbled fuzzily. "I'm sorry. Don't—"

Roman ignored him and pulled at his jeans roughly. His knife easily sliced through America's jeans and he yanked them away, leaving him in his underwear. Mercury lifted him and Roman removed America's sneakers and socks, idly looking in them for tech before tossing them into the mud. Roman moved onto America's jacket, then his t-shirt, and he carelessly cut them both away. The jacket fell in strips but the t-shirt hung on, sliding slowly down in pieces. America felt the cold breeze touch his skin— with the exception of his pelvis area, upper back, and chest— and he shivered. He felt Roman's hands brush the bandages.

"What is  _this_?"

Rough hands grabbed the bandages wrapped around America's chest and ripped them, leaving the nation exposed. America's arms hovered futilely near his chest, completely failing to cover what he wanted to hide. Roman gasped, then laughed hysterically.

"Oh,  _wow_. This is too  _good_. And here I was, complaining about  _my_  scars. Who gave these beauties to you? Can I have their autograph?"

As he mocked America, Roman grabbed the remnants of his shirt and cut them all off. America cringed as his ruined shirt slid down his arms and uselessly to the ground. His captors did not attack him for having a weapon and he belatedly realized the dagger in his sleeve was gone again. So was its holster. It was like it had never been there. Had he imagined its existence?

" _No, it was real."_  Vale reassured him and he breathed a sigh of relief. He barely noticed as she continued to mutter.  _"It's a real, cursed, sacrificial dagger, and_ _ **it got a**_   _ **taste of your blood**_ _—"_

Something thin prodded America by his hip but he recognized it as the arm of his glasses before he could think it was a needle and panic. Roman jabbed the arm through the fabric to hold it in place, giving the glasses a mocking pat. Fingers trailed up America's back and along his shoulders, snuffing out his brief relief in a heartbeat, and he recoiled. Rather than pull away, Roman set his palm over the 'A' carved into his flesh. His fingers brushed back and forth as he jabbed the scars, sending shocks of pain through America's back.

"Does that hurt?" Roman cooed. "Mine hurts too sometimes. But  _yours_ , oh they look  _painful_."

He stabbed the 'A' with his finger and America bit his lip so he would not make a sound. Roman's breath tickled his the back of neck and his breathing stuttered. He could feel Roman standing close behind him, almost pressing against his back. But Roman was  _not_  the soldier. America was not with the soldier. The soldier was dead and he was alive and that was all that mattered—

"Seems like someone got a little up close and personal with you." Roman breathed in his ear. "Oh, I have so many new ideas—"

America felt Roman stiffen and he backed away. A low growl rumbled near America's head and he belatedly identified it as coming from Hazel. There was a low thud, like something heavy had been set on someone's shoulder, and he heard Roman's breathing quicken.

"Do not. Do that.  _Again_." Hazel growled. Even though it was not directed at him, the quiet  _fury_  in his voice sent a shiver of unease through America.

"Just t-trying to make you worry less. But y-you're the boss." Roman said with a nervous laugh.

Mercury's hands squeezed America's biceps but Hazel's familiar grasp circled his waist. America's heart pounded with panic as he was lifted and set on Hazel's shoulder once more. The fabric felt slightly different. Didn't Hazel wear an undershirt? America could not recall. He was tired, and everything was fuzzy…

"Keep walking." Hazel ordered. The arm holding America was tense. "Let's just get this over with."

Hazel began moving at a steady gait. America fought against his nausea and tried not to think about the hand on his bare back. It was much too big to be the soldier's, and Hazel promised he would not torture him. He did promise that, right?

America was tired.

He wanted to sleep.

But he shouldn't sleep.

Why though?

" _Alfred,"_ Vale's urgent voice pierced his hazy thoughts and he groaned.  _"Do you remember the numbers for the spell?"_

_I remember_ , America thought drowsily.  _Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinque—_

" _Yes, yes."_  Vale interrupted hastily.  _"You remember. Good job."_

America let his body go limp and tried to get used to the sway of Hazel's gait. His exposed skin prickled with gooseflesh and he shivered, but resigned himself to remain freezing until Hazel realized he could not have their prisoner freeze to death. The already-cold air was getting colder and America comprehended another day was passing by. That should scare him for some reason but he was having trouble staying awake. His skin felt hot, his throat ached, his leg hurt, and his mind felt drowsy.

Maybe…

...he should just…

...sleep...

America's eyes slipped closed.

Hazel stopped in place.

There was no warning. He stopped so quickly America nearly smacked his head on his bound arms. Hazel abruptly took him off his shoulder. He did not acknowledge America's pained moan, instead holding him up by his collar in front of him.

Roman laughed. "Well, would you look who it is!"

The criminal grabbed America's blindfold and tore it off of him. America winced in the bright sunlight, slowly allowing his eyes to adjust. They stood in a nondescript part of the forest, the sun shining brightly above them and the leaves rustling in a soft wind. There was no path, not even a semblance of one.

And Emerald was there.

She leaned against a tree, weapons at her hips and Grimm-veined arms exposed. Her eyes flicked to America and she smirked at him, blood-red irises glittering with malice.

She was there. Right in front of them.

She was  _right_   _there_.

America accounted for Emerald being at their destination, where her teleportation point was.

He did  _not_  account for her ability to move away from it and meet them, because while she only had that point to go to around here, she  _definitely_  had a point back with Salem. Apparently Hazel did not either if his surprised expression was any indication. Numbness swept through America and he felt the fight drain out of him. It was over. It was over before he could even try to escape.

There was no other choice now.

Before Emerald could speak, before she could taunt him with tales of Canada's torment or Roman could mock him about their destination, America shut his eyes.

_Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinque, sex, septem, octo, novem, decem._

America felt the spell take hold of him, gentle and caring like his brother's embrace. His knees buckled and someone— Hazel?— caught him before he could hit the ground. The spell enveloped his consciousness, sweeping him into the darkness.

And he was out like a light.

XXXXXXX

Consciousness returned to Canada in stages. His head pounded and a throbbing ache spread through his body. He groaned, tongue thick, heavy, and as dry as sand. A hand brushed his hair and he flinched. The hand receded, then returned, gently petting his head. Canada's racing heart slowed and he relaxed, leaning into the icy touch that was the nicest thing he had felt in… in…

...In a while.

"Wake up, child. It's time."

Canada's eyes snapped open. He flinched away from Salem's touch but she grabbed his hair, holding his head in place. In front of them, a red and black scar appeared in the air, and he recognized it as one of Emerald's portals. Salem's earlier claim came rushing back to him.

"No."

Salem ignored his almost inaudible whimper. She released him and clasped her hands elegantly in front of her. Her unblinking gaze never wavered as five figures stepped through the portal. Not five people. Six. One was being carried by the others.

Salem smiled. "Bring him to me."

Hazel removed America from his shoulder and laid him at the Queen of the Grimm's feet. Alfred's clothes were gone, with the exception of his underwear, leaving his body exposed for all to see. He was bloody, bruised, and as pale as death as he lay on the dark tiles of the Vault. If not for the slight movement of his bare chest, Canada would think his brother's corpse was being presented to Salem like a trophy. Hazel rose to his feet, staring off to the side.

"He fell unconscious before we passed through the portal, ma'am." he reported.

"Did he now?" Salem asked. She reached down and grabbed America's chin, turning his head and studying his face from every angle. "I finally get to meet the one that caused me so much trouble in person..." Her fingernails clenched and trickles of blood dripped down America's face. She released him and rose to her full height. "Wake him up."

"Gladly." Roman offered.

He kicked America in the side. Canada flinched at the sound of a boot meeting flesh but America did not react. His head lolled limply and Roman kicked him again. A savage grin warped his face. Canada's body betrayed him and he could not shut his eyes. He watched mutely, unable to turn away as Roman continued beating his brother bloody. Each fleshy impact made Canada recoil, and he could see Emerald watching his reactions, a dark smile stretched across her face.

But when even a kick to the throat failed to get more than a lurch out of America, Salem held up her hand with a frown. Roman stopped mid-kick, nearly falling on his face, and backed up hastily as Salem approached. She reached down and grabbed America by his throat, lifting him off the floor. His body remained limp, his head tilted back.

Canada almost wanted to laugh. He almost did laugh, because it worked. The spell  _worked_. America was out of Salem's reach. The relief warmed his ice-cold skin and his lips twitched into an alien-feeling smile.

Fury flashed through Salem's face and she dropped him. America hit the floor, completely unresponsive, and Salem turned on Canada. Her hand clenched. The Grimm essence inside him flared and he screamed, writhing helplessly. As his shrieks echoed through the desolate Vault, Emerald smiled. Watts watched on curiously. Hazel looked away.

It lasted for what felt like hours, with his screams growing hoarser and softer as his throat ached from the strain. Just as Canada thought his voice might give out, Salem lowered her hand. He went limp in his bonds, sobbing softly, and Salem grabbed his hair, yanking his head up with clawed fingers. Her furious red eyes pinned Canada like needles through a fly.

" **Wake him up**."

"No."

Canada's heart raced. His skin was clammy. His body ached with echoes of lingering pain. But he did not regret the word. He did not want to take it back. Even as Salem released him and her hand slid down to the center of his chest. It hovered just above his heart, where the source of her essence lay inside him.

"Would you like to change your response?"

Canada kept his mouth shut.

Salem inclined her head. "Very well. Emerald, Roman; hold Vale."

The two picked America up and held him by his shoulders. His head lolled forward and his breathing remained soft and even. He was oblivious to the Queen of the Grimm as she approached, and her hand shifted into a Nuckelavee's clawed limb. Blackness bubbled at the tips of her fingers and Canada lurched in his chains. They clattered and did not break but he kept struggling, desperate to break free.

"Don't! Please  _don't!_ "

Salem's hands rested on America's chest and she half-turned. She studied Canada from the corner of her eye. "Wake your brother or his peaceful rest will be filled with suffering and nightmares."

Canada hesitated. England's spell was supposed to leave America in a dreamless sleep. But what if Salem's powers overcame that? What if she was right and America would be trapped in a pain-filled hell he could not wake from? If he even  _survived_ …

"You'll  _kill_  him." Canada begged. "Please, he isn't strong enough to take it.  _It'll_   _kill him!_ "

Salem considered him, and Canada could see her tasting his fear. He knew she could tell it was real. It  _was_  very real, because America was limp and bloody and helpless and Canada could do nothing to help him but beg for his safety—

Hazel cleared his throat. "Ma'am, Vale was very ill when he fell unconscious. The Grimm essence  _could_  stop his heart at this point."

Salem lowered her hand. "I see. I suppose I have been a bit too eager when attacking his Kingdom."

Hazel did not agree with or refute her. He wisely kept his silence.

Salem's hand morphed back into a human's and she gently stroked America's pale cheek. "He's so vulnerable. So helpless. So  _weak_. But I do not need him to be healthy. Only alive enough to flare his Aura twice. Ozpin is weeks away yet, and he will not be an issue much longer. We have plenty of time." She let her hand drop. "Emerald, keep  _convincing_  Canada to help us. Roman, Vale is all yours. Just make sure you don't kill him."

"Yes, ma'am." Emerald said.

"Will do, boss." Roman crowed.

Salem's eyes flicked to Hazel, who stood stiffly to the side. "Make sure they aren't too overeager, Hazel."

"Of course." Hazel said tersely.

"Watts, Mercury, Adam. Come with me."

Salem swept away, heading deeper into the shadowy Vault. Watts followed briskly, Adam soon after, but Mercury hesitated before going as well. Canada smelled his fear and his lips twitched. Oh, Mercury realized how unimportant he was, had he? Poor little boy. No one cared if he lived or died—

Fire burned Canada's leg and he screamed. Emerald lifted the Relic of Destruction from the limb and pointed it into the empty air.

"The sooner you give up, the sooner this pain ends."

Canada did not utter a word.

Emerald aimed at his shoulder, lining up like she was about to knight him. "Do you think Vale would feel this blade?"

"It'd probably give him a heart attack." Roman said casually. "Remember, can't kill him. Just have to hurt him enough to make poor wittle Mattie break." He grinned viciously. "I have so many  _ideas_."

As Emerald laid the Relic of Destruction of Canada's shoulder, Roman took out a switchblade, flicking it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, the villains are a few days away from their destination. I'm sure there will be quite a few chapters for the journey, maybe with a couple escape attempts— Hahaha, no.
> 
> I don't have enough time to check for spelling mistakes and missing or switched words. If you see any, tell me and I will fix them later.
> 
> Just a few more weeks of (h̵̢̗͔̅͝ͅͅȩ̸̫̘̗̔́̀̆͝͝l̷̢̝̲̮̮̎̀ͅl̵̡̠͈̞͛) Friday updates, guys.
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm. So. TIRED. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—


	33. Goldilocks and the Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Dark chapter. Violence. Some blood.

Even with the news they bore, it took a week for them to meet the President. The man was shouting at one of his men as Germany led Prussia, China, Lithuania, and Hungary to his office, with agents shadowing their every step. Germany did not spot Tarleton's agents among the group, but kept his annoyance off his face. Things would be too easy if their target was there.

Though perhaps it was a good thing he was not. That meant they could speak to the President freely, or as freely as they could with all the agents around. Germany knew all their names. So did his companions. They learned them before ever stepping foot in the White House. None of them were spies.

As far as they knew.

It was honestly a miracle that the five nations were even headed to this meeting with the President. Germany knew relations between the nations had improved since the Grimm arrived and AGATE formed, but it never hit him until now how much. He had a feeling even Russia would be allowed here with only a little suspicion. Germany did not want to push their luck— and Russia seemed much more unstable lately— so he did not invite him along. They entered the Oval Office and saluted as one.

"At ease." The President said immediately. "I do not have much time before I need to head to the Senate."

"Of course." Germany said seriously. "Thank you of meeting with us, Mister President." His eyes scanned the agents standing along the walls and by the door. "Agent Tarleton and his team aren't here, sir?"

"No. I know he has been your liaison but his team has not been informed of this meeting." The President said nothing more, waiting patiently with the implied command to tell him why the nations demanded an earlier conference hanging in the air.

Germany reluctantly obliged. "America has been captured by Salem."

The silence that fell over the room was suffocating. The Americans stilled as if they had been frozen in time. The President was the first to move. He put his head in his shaking hands.

"How do you know?"

"Japan and Russia returned from Remnant."

That was not exactly the truth but Germany was not sure how much the President would believe in Japan's dream Semblance. Germany himself still had trouble believing it, but he would rather share the news and be overreacting than dismiss it off hand. He had seen too many strange things to disregard Japan's warning.

The President looked up at him, wearing the blank expression of a man on the verge of accepting death. "Is it over then?"

Germany shook his head. "We're still here. If Salem had all four Relics we would know by now."

"So America is resisting." The President appeared to age ten years in the span of a heartbeat as deep lines aged his face.

"Yes." Germany said shortly as he tried not to think about what America must be going through.

The strain in the President's face suggested he felt similarly. "And there is nothing we can do?"

Germany remembered what Norway and Tony approached him about the day before. "Tony is working on something."

The President's gaze snapped to him. "Tony? America's alien friend?"

"Yes."

The President's expression went smooth. "I don't want to know anything."

Germany recalled the vicious glint in Tony's red eyes. "Of course not, sir."

The President frowned. "Tarleton said you had something you needed to tell me before this. What was it?"

"There are Atlas spies stationed on Earth. They have been for years." Germany studied the President's expression. "You aren't surprised."

The President did not deny it. His green eyes locked with Germany's. "We are aware of the problem. We have yet to capture any alive."

Germany was not sure if he believed him. "Were you aware some of them are in governmental positions?"

That got a reaction out of the President. He rose to his feet, hands slamming down on his desk. " _Who?_ "

Germany told him. He had Hungary share their encounter with the spy in the factory, and Lithuania tell of his encounter with the 'American'. When he was finished, the President was shaking. Whether it was from shock or anger, the nation could not say. The fury burning in his green eyes suggested it was the latter.

"You're telling me this for a reason. What do you want me to do?" the President asked.

Germany did not smile. "Help us set off the trap."

XXXXXXX

_This is hopeless._

Ruby stared hollowly at the endless expanse of trees in front of them. The group was atop a cliff that overlooked the forest, which stretched as far as the eye could see. They still had hundreds of miles to walk, and no way to bypass them.

Feliciano had brought up the idea that they should use the necklaces to go to Earth and return with the ritual, hopefully appearing with the twins, but it was far from guaranteed that they would appear with Matthew or Alfred or anywhere closer to their destination. They could show up wherever Jaune's family was, or in the ruins of Atlas, or in Mistral, or even in Menagerie…

_Blake._

The sun reflected off the weapon on Yang's back. It looked out of place there, even after seventeen days. Seventeen days since Blake died. Eleven since Alfred was captured. Ruby thought the world had ended, yet Remnant kept on living. Weiss did not believe Alfred was still out of Salem's hands, which meant he had to have used that sleeping spell. Or he was being tortured. Him and Matthew.

"We're not going to make it."

"Don't say that." Pyrrha whispered, and Ruby realized she had spoken aloud.

"It's true though." Yang said flatly. "We're still weeks away."

"Then we have to keep moving." Pyrrha said stiffly. Her face was too pale, and her eyes were sunken from a lack of sleep. "I refuse to—"

"For the love of  _God_ ,  _would you SOD OFF!_ "

Ruby cringed at Arthur's shout, heart racing in her chest. She watched the green-eyed man storm away from Penny, who remained where she was without moving a single inch. Despite her unblinking eyes and stiff expression, Ruby was starkly reminded of an abandoned puppy. She hurried over to Penny and forced a reassuring smile.

"Don't mind him. He's upset. If you want some company, you can walk with me."

"I am selfish."

Ruby paused, debating whether one of Penny's systems was on the fritz again. The focused stare that pinned her in place suggested that was not the case.

"Could you, uh… elaborate why you think that?" Ruby asked cautiously.

Penny's eyes followed Arthur as he picked his way along the path. "I accompany Arthur Kirkland because he is Alfred F. Jones's brother. But I also accompany him because I hope he will use his Semblance."

Ruby's brow furrowed. "Why would you want him to use his Semblance on you?"

"To know if I am real."

Ruby balked. "What?"

"I am distressed. I am upset. I am sad, and my tear ducts keep requesting that I cry." Penny placed a hand to her chest, expression blank but twitching, like she was struggling to keep it that way. "Are these emotions mine? Are they  _real_? Or are they a fabrication that was created based off data from Penny Polendina's memories?"

Ruby did not know what to say.

The giant Ursa that stepped out of the woods was almost a welcome distraction.

It was taller than the trees, and Ruby had to marvel how it managed to sneak up on them. It's spikes were as big as stalactites, its teeth bigger than her head, and each paw was tipped with claws the size of swords. Except this Grimm was not just an Ursa bigger than a house.

Its giant jaws gaped, and more Grimm spawned from its saliva.

" _Spawner!_ " Winter shouted.

Her blade flicked up and summoned a glyph in the nick of time Rather than strike her, the giant paw slammed into the glyph and shattered it, giving her just enough time to dodge. Its paw slashed though trees like they were made of paper and Ruby ducked as wood rained around them. A Beowolf lunged for her and she sliced it in half, back slamming into Penny's. Any uncertainty vanished as the robot's weapons floated out of her backpack.

"It is seventy-nine percent likely Salem is trying to kill us to prevent us from reaching Alfred."

"You  _think?_ " Jett shouted as he slashed two Ursa's throats.

A Creep jumped at him from behind but Arthur blasted it away. It went through five trees before flying of the cliff, disintegrating as it went.

"Jaune, help Weiss and I summon." Winter ordered.

The glow of Jaune's Aura appeared around the Schnees and glyphs appeared behind them. The Grimm's giant paw rose but Feliciano threw a rock at it, hitting it directly in the eye. He shrieked as the Grimm swung at him but its paw passed harmlessly through him. It did leave a crater in the ground. Feliciano hastily clambered out of the crater as Beowolves and Ursa emerged from the puddles around him. They abruptly collapsed, eyes slipping closed.

"Leave my brother alone you  _freaky bastards!_ " Lovino screamed.

He slashed a Beowolf with the sharp edge of his shield and shot another, kicking a third hard enough that Ruby heard an audible  _crunch_. Green light flared and Ruby realized Sterlyn had freed Ozpin. There was no time to question him as the Ursa's clawed paw swiped at her.

She grabbed Penny and dodged, shooting them upwards. They reformed in midair and Penny yanked a few loose swords from her backpack, throwing them. They hit the Spawner in the eye and it roared in pain, clawing at them until they fell out. A furious red eye glowered them and Ruby's heart crawled into her throat.

"It can regenerate."

Arthur heard her warning and cursed. He bashed a Creep aside and fried a few Beowolves. "I can vaporize it but it's too close."

Nora smashed a line of Ursas out into the open air. "Shove it off the cliff."

She shifted her hammer into its gun form and fired. The grenades hit the Spawner dead on and it staggered, snarling. Nora rolled out of the way of a swipe that would have flattened her, firing again. The Ursa snarled and rose up on its hind legs. A White Knight, Lancer Queen, and enormous Alpha appeared in front of her, deflecting the Grimm's blow.

The Knight and Alphas held their ground while the Lancer circled behind it, launching its rope-like spines at the Spawner. Each dagger sank into the giant Ursa's flesh and it bellowed. Green and red light struck it and a hunk of metal slammed into its throat, curving around it like a collar. Weiss, Winter, Jaune, Arthur, Ozpin, and Pyrrha remained in place, faces pale and strained with concentration. That left the others to defend them.

Ruby turned to rose petals, slashing through Ursa and Beowolves in a blur of red. Penny stayed behind Arthur, watching his back and stabbing anything that came near. More and more Grimm replaced the ones they killed, and Ruby knew they needed to take the Spawner out before they had any hope of killing them all. Weiss's legs trembled from strain.

"It's… so… heavy..." she gasped.

The Lancer Queen's ropes snapped. It faded away, and the Knight faded with it. Weiss collapsed to her knees. The Ursa swung, shredding the Alphas, and Winter grunted, a bead of red dripping down her lip. Jaune tackled her but did not manage to get out of the way in time and went flying. He struck the dirt headfirst and Ruby saw his eyes roll back. Ren grabbed his leader, pulling him away, but was forced to duck as the Ursa sliced the trees above him.

Pyrrha sent her weapon through its eye, giving them a second's reprieve as it screamed. She summoned the weapon back but its eye was already healed. Francis took the blow, lips parting in pain, and the Ursa stumbled, teetering on the edge. Ruby shot into the air and slashed both its eyes with her scythe, but the Grimm failed to fall backwards. Instead it reared up. Ruby made to dodge but a Beowolf hit her from behind, holding her still long enough that the Spawner's giant paw filled her vision—

Yang shoved Ruby aside, taking the blow.

She smashed through the trees and left a trench in the dirt, slowly coming to a stop. A scream caught in Ruby's throat but her sister rose, eyes red and hair glowing with her Semblance. She ran back to the Spawner, dwarfed by its size, but Ruby could see the strength she had gathered. Ruby knew her sister would not fall.

The Grimm roared at the tiny human that dared to stand before it, and Yang screamed back, arm sparking as her fist smashed into the Grimm's underbelly. Even with all the strength behind the blow, the Spawner did not soar like its smaller kin. Instead it stumbled back and plunged off the edge of the cliff. Realizing what was happening, the Spawner slashed desperately at the ground, trying to cling to it.

Its giant paws tore through the stone beneath Yang's feet, and she fell.

" _YANG!_ " Ruby screamed.

Time slowed to a crawl. The Grimm noticed the human falling with the stone and its giant jaws gaped wide. Yang plummeted limply with it, and for a moment, Ruby thought her sister was unconscious. Then Yang looked at her. Her sister's head moved and she  _looked at her_  as she fell towards the Grimm's mouth, tears and an apology in her sorrowful light blue eyes—

Red light flared.

A masked woman emerged from it and slammed into Yang's side, pushing her away as the Grimm's jaws snapped shut. The masked woman flinched as a tooth grazed her leg, but they plummeted away from the Grimm's jaws, the two falling in a blur of black and gold. A glyph appeared below them and launched them back up the cliff, away from the Grimm as it bellowed in rage.

" _Ruby!_ " Weiss shouted.

Ruby jolted into motion and everything blurred. The Grimm, her friends, everything except Yang and the woman. She snatched them from midair, muscles straining from their weight, and landed hard on top of the cliff. The moment they were out of the way, Arthur pointed his staff down at the falling beast. Red light hit the beast and it exploded, taking a chunk of the forest with it.

The light burned Ruby's eye and she screamed, covering her face. Around her, she heard the Grimm howl in pain, and fading footsteps as many of them retreated. Something warm encased her, blocking out the heat, and when it faded, Ruby finally dared to reopen her eye. She blinked up at the black-haired woman, whose red eyes she could just see through the openings of her Grimm-like mask.

The woman stared back at her and huffed. "Just like your mother."

Ruby's mouth moved wordlessly but her questions were forgotten when she saw who lay beside her. " _Yang!_ " She hugged her sister so tightly she felt her hands go numb. "You're not dead. You're not dead. I thought you were going to die..." She unashamedly sobbed into her sister's shoulder.

Yang embraced her stiffly, mouth open and eyes wide with shock as she gaped at her savior.

"Mom?" she whispered. "You  _saved_  me."

The woman— Yang's birth mother, Raven Branwen— scoffed. "Qrow is right. I have gone soft."

"Uncle Qrow...  _is?_ " Ruby asked faintly.

Black filled her vision but Jett stabbed the Beowolf before it could reach her. He yanked his daggers free and stood defensively over Ruby and Yang. Black shapes filled the woods around them.

"Oi, lady. Can you use that portal to get us out of here?"

Raven's lip curled in distaste. "Fine."

Her sword slashed the air and a red portal appeared. Jett did not hesitate to shove Feliciano through. Ruby heard the beat of wings and saw a Nevermore diving towards them. Pyrrha and Arthur brought it down.

"Go!" the champion shouted.

She grabbed Jaune's hand and ran into the portal.

Arthur hesitated. "Where will we—"

"Patch." Yang said. "Dad is there."

Arthur's expression cleared. Ruby's throat tightened. She had no time to hesitate when Arthur grabbed her and Yang's arms, dragging them into the portal. The world turned red and then…

And then...

They were... home.

Ruby halted in the middle of the living room, eyes locked on a picture on a shelf. It was of her team. She, Weiss, Yang, and Blake all smiled at the camera. Her with a peace sign, Yang pumping her fist, Weiss smiling slightly. And Blake…

"Hey, kiddo. Long time no see."

Ruby's breath caught. She heard the soft squeak of wheels behind her, coming to a stop. Yang whipped around and released a strangled sob before launching herself at something. Weiss also turned, gasping softly, and dropped her weapon to the floor. Ruby heard familiar laughter and still did not turn, heart in her throat. The picture on the shelf grew blurry.

"Kiddo?"

Ruby turned.

Uncle Qrow sat in a wheelchair, gently patting Yang's back as she sobbed into her shoulder. Taiyang stood behind him, hands resting on the handles of his wheelchair. Over to the side, Winter and Weiss hugged Whitley between them, with Klein enveloping them all in his arms. Ruby hardly noticed them.

Golden sunlight drifted through the windows, and the familiar scent of cinnamon tickled her nose. She realized then, that this must be a dream. Either she had no awoken yet today, or she had been knocked out during the Ursa fight.

Qrow's eyes— red and soft and full of life— met hers and he raised his arms. "What's wrong? No hug for your uncle?"

Ruby threw herself at him, nearly knocking his wheelchair over. Taiyang caught them just in time, but Ruby did not notice. She sobbed into Qrow's shirt, breathing in the scent of feathers and alcohol. He petted her hair, his other hand drifting through Yang's.

"See? I told you they like me better."

"Yeah, yeah." Taiyang said, but he did not sound angry.

Ruby hiccuped and clambered into her uncle's lap like she used to when she was a child. He grunted but did not appear to be in pain, holding her securely as she curled up against him.

"I know it's been a while but I'm starting to feel bad for Tai." he teased. "What? Did you miss me that badly?"

"We t-thought you were  _dead_." Ruby cried. "When Alfred said Frontier was destroyed..."

Qrow's amused look faded. "It was a close one. If Raven hadn't shown up when she did, it'd be a completely different story."

Boots clicked on tile and Raven stood beside her old team, mask clipped at her side and arms crossed. "You may be an idiot but you're my brother. I wouldn't let you die."

"Or me." Yang murmured. "Thanks."

Raven tensed and looked away.

Taiyang's skin paled. " _That's_  why you vanished without warning?"

Raven did not reply.

"Turns out my dear sister has a heart after all." Qrow smirked when Raven smacked the side of his head. "She showed up when the Grimm moved in. Got me, Whitley, Klein, Sun, and a chunk of people out of there. Your friends Flynt and Neon and her family are fine, by the way." His red eyes scanned their group, counting heads, and his smile faded. "Where are Blake and Alfred? And Matthew, Ivan, and Kiku?"

Ruby lowered her head.

Her tears stained his shirt.

XXXXXXX

Canada thought he knew hell. He thought he knew the worst of what humanity was capable of. He had witnessed countless atrocities, had lived through several, and yet this felt worse than any of them. Canada could not look away. Upon realizing being aware to see America's state got more of a reaction out of him than using the Relic, Emerald had changed tactics. His eyes were pried open and he was forced to watch Roman slice up his brother.

America's hands were unbound and the collar was gone from his neck. He slept obliviously on as Roman carved into his back like a canvas. The cuts varied from lines to insults to actual pictures, including a section where Roman had played hangman with himself near America's lower spine. Seeing some of the words Roman used, Canada could only pray the wounds would heal without scarring.

Canada could feel his strength wavering as fear took hold, because he could feel himself losing his sanity. The Grimm essence prowled at the edge of his thoughts, biting him without warning and whispering violent desires in his ear. His heart raced so rapidly that he was surprised he had not suffered a heart attack yet. Even his mind was faltering.

America was completely unaware, sleeping almost peacefully, but when Canada's mind grew fuzzy and he forgot what reality was, all he saw was Roman carving his brother's corpse. There was blood on his knife and the floor and Canada's hands—

Emerald did not need to use her Semblance on him to make him hallucinate, and decided his grief-stricken howls were torment enough for her.

Eventually, Roman ran out of room on America's back. He lifted his knife, considering the bloody mess he had created and tapped his chin. His gaze roamed over America's prone body, almost hungrily.

"Do I want to be that kind of guy?" he mused to no one. "I think I might be able to stomach a little more gore. Blue here is my good  _friend_ , after all. And he has such a frustratingly pretty face..." The criminal shrugged. "You know what? He can afford to bleed a little more."

" _Don't_  kill him." Emerald reminded him sharply. "If you stab him too deeply—"

"I won't, I won't." Roman interrupted. "Jeez, for such a vengeance-seeker you sure are a killjoy. You should relax." He smirked and nodded at America. "I have another knife to stick in him. Want to stab him a couple times? Vent your frustration?"

Emerald's eyes never left Canada. "I would rather watch."

Roman rolled America onto his back and sat beside him, fingers trailing over his serene face. "I've dreamed about doing this. But my dreams had a bit more screaming and struggling. Maybe some nice, pathetic begging too—"

"What are you doing?" Hazel growled.

Roman glanced at him and winked impishly. "I'm doing what the boss wants, Hazel. If you're squeamish you can look away. You won't hear a thing. Blue won't make any noise." He paused. "Well, maybe he will if he chokes on his own blood. I haven't really decided where I want to focus my rapt attention yet."

Hazel rose from beside the wall and uncrossed his arms. His posture was tense, and the air around him was nearly oppressive. Another slither of fear joined Canada's growing repertoire even though his anger was not directed at him.

He knew better than to hope Hazel would stop Roman. The man appeared uncomfortable, but he had stood by and let Roman and Emerald hurt both twins without a protest. Though looking at Hazel's thunderous expression, maybe that changed.

_**Please**  let it have changed._

"What. Are you. Planning?" Hazel growled.

"Oh, I'm going to start cutting off body parts." Roman said cheerfully. "My fellow gangs did it all the time to send a message. I'm debating between an eye and his tongue. Like I said, I'm not usually that kind of guy, but I do love making exceptions for little Blue." He sighed, and wiped away an imaginary tear. "Our boss truly is considerate of her underlings."

There was a hint of mocking there, as if he were daring Hazel to try to stop him. The large man's muscles tensed, and for a breathless moment, Canada thought he might punch Roman. Instead he turned away, and Canada's hope died.

"Don't kill him." Hazel said quietly. Canada had to wonder if he was hallucinating the resignation in his deep voice.

Roman's laughter sent ice-water down his spine. " _Excellent!_  Hey, Matt. Can I call you Matt? What should I remove first? Your brother's tongue or his eye? He's always such an annoying chatterbox, but I think the boss would appreciate him blind and whimpering and crawling helplessly on his knees. Ah,  _helpless_. That's just how we need him. Eye it is."

Roman plucked one of the contraptions that kept Canada's eye open off his face, ignoring the nation's pained gasp. He carefully opened America's right eye, exposing a glazed sky blue iris and expanded pupil. America did not even twitch as Roman set the device there, keeping the eye open. The criminal twirled his knife idly, humming to himself as he considered his target. Then he flicked the blade into his hand and began lowering towards America's good eye.

Canada broke.

" _Rennevere evligium!_ " he screamed.

Roman stopped and looked at him, lifting the knife away from America's eye.

Canada hung in his chains, sobbing lowly. "It's ' _Rennevere evligium_ '."

On the floor of the Vault, America stirred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that lovely cliffhanger, I'm taking a break for a few weeks. I know, I know, how evil, I'm sorry, but I really need a break. I'm burning out and if I keep going as I have this story will suffer for it.
> 
> I'll resume updates on MARCH 8TH. Again, I'm really sorry.


	34. Twisted Tales

Yang gently Blake's ashes next to the picture of team RWBY. She stood silently for a moment, head bowed, before her hand brushed the weapon at her back. She did not remove it from its place. Behind her, Qrow reached for a bottle of whiskey but Taiyang took it out of his reach, shooting him a warning look. Qrow flexed his fingers but let his hand fall to the tabletop.

"I… see. So that's it, huh?"

Raven glared coldly at Ozpin. "I knew you could not be trusted."

"Raven. Not the time." Qrow said tersely.

"There  _is_  no other time." Raven snapped. She hunched in her seat, arms crossed, and put the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Salem has Vale. It's  _over_."

"Not yet." Ruby whispered. "Alfred's still fighting her. Salem would have used the Relics and destroyed everything if he wasn't."

The joy of finding Qrow, Whitley, Klein, and even Sun alive was fading and fear pierced her grief enough that she realized just what Alfred and Matthew must be enduring. Her mind cleared and she rose to her feet.

"We need to get to Beacon.  _Now_."

From where she sat next to Whitley, one arm around her brother's shoulders, Weiss looked up. "Ruby—"

"Sitting here won't help Alfred and Matthew." Ruby interjected. "It won't stop Salem. We  _don't_  have time for this."

Her words lit a fire under the Huntsmen, nations, and Huntresses and their gazes sharpened. Murmurs of agreement rose up, with only Penny and Raven remaining silent.

"You're right." Arthur said quietly. His fingers clenched around his staff. "How far is Patch from Vale?"

"Only a few hours by airship." Yang said. "A few days by boat." Her robotic arm was still but her flesh arm quivered.

Arthur's teeth clenched. "We don't  _have_  an airship."

"We do." Taiyang interrupted. "The pilot might refuse to drive at this time of night—"

"Then  _I'll_  pilot it." Sterlyn said. "I'm probably more qualified to go into combat zones than they are."

"Our Scrolls work short-range." Whitley brought up. "I have Neon's number."

"Your friend Velvet and her team have been staying in Patch when they're not in the city." Taiyang added. "I can probably reach them by radio."

"And the other Huntsmen as well." Qrow added. "It might take a few extra hours for them to arrive but..."

"Call the teachers, CRDL,  _everyone_  we can." Ruby ordered.

Qrow was already wheeling away. "I can reach the Dust stash."

"Leave the alcohol alone." Taiyang warned.

Raven's hands slammed down on the table. "What are you  _doing_?"

No one stopped moving. Qrow wheeled himself out of the room. Whitley called Neon. Klein was also on the phone. Pyrrha accepted a communicator from Taiyang. Only she turned to Raven and put a hand on her arm.

"If we fail here, we  _all_  die. There's no more running, Aunt Raven."

Raven flinched and her teeth clenched. Ruby held her gaze, because although this woman was a stranger, she was a part of her mom's team, so that had to mean something. Raven looked down at her, jaw clenched and quivering, and Ruby had the feeling she was not seeing her sixteen year-old niece. Her red eyes jerked to the side and she nodded abruptly, pulling on her helmet.

"I'll retrieve a few of my bandits and return. They're no Huntsmen but they can fight Grimm."

Ruby hugged her. "Thank you."

Raven's jaw worked and she pushed Ruby away. Not like a nuisance, but like a young fawn she did not want to hurt. She slashed the air and paused beside Yang, who stared stiffly at her birth mother.

"...Don't die."

Raven stepped through the portal and vanished.

Yang exhaled, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Thanks,  _mother_."

"Will she come back?" Nora asked.

"She will." Qrow entered the room with a box of Dust in his lap. He set it on the table and Weiss took some out, placing them in the small purse at her belt. Qrow brushed his hands on his pants, ignoring Taiyang's exasperated look. "Raven may be prickly, but she'll keep her word." His eyes grew shadowed. "There's nowhere to run anymore."

Taiyang took some Dust from the box and glanced at Qrow. "You okay with sitting this one out?"

"Of course not." Qrow grunted. "But… there's not much I can do."

Taiyang clapped his teammate's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "We'll come back."

Ruby jolted. "You're coming?"

"Of course." Taiyang said. "I  _am_  a Huntsman."

An uneasy feeling curled in Ruby's gut. "But… But you..."

Taiyang's blue eyes flicked to her and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. "Yang, Ruby, come with me a second."

The two girls followed their father into the hallway and up the stairs. He entered his bedroom and crouched by a crate at the end of his bed. Slowly he opened it, to reveal his old weapons.

While Ruby took after Qrow in her choice of a weapon, Yang took after her father. His gauntlets stretched up his forearms, shifting both into claws and a type of brass knuckles. He slipped them on, flexing his fingers experimentally. Three claws shot out of the end and he studied them before flexing his hands again. The claws slid back up his forearms. He clicked open the chambers and frowned.

"Have to refill the cartridges..." he murmured. Then he pinned his two girls with his stare. "So Qrow told me your friend Alfred has a technology Semblance."

Yang stiffened. Ruby remembered the note she left telling her father she was going to Mistral and scuffed her foot.

Taiyang adjusted his gauntlets slightly and exhaled. "I'm not angry. Just confused. Why didn't you call me?"

"We didn't think..." Yang smacked her forehead. "Alfred did. He asked us if we wanted him to call you." Her annoyance drained away and she glanced hesitantly at Ruby. "Sis said no."

Taiyang raised an eyebrow, nonjudgmental and patiently waiting for an answer. Ruby's throat tightened.

As her silence stretched on, Taiyang sighed. "I know you are both Huntresses. But Ruby, Yang, you're still my girls. Ruby left one day, and though I waved Yang goodbye, I never got so much as a note. Until— Until Qrow appeared with Raven, I had no idea if you were still  _alive_ —"

"I found out how mom died."

Taiyang's back stiffened. His hands fell to his sides.

Ruby dropped her gaze, unable to look at him. "Before… Before we got Alfred back, I found out. Ozpin knew. Mom… She… she was killed by Salem. In an ambush. Ozpin sent her into an ambush. A-And she was ambushed because of Silver Eyes. Silver Eyes turn their wielder evil." Her vision blurred. "I could have called. Alfred has a technology Semblance so I could have called any time and told you. I could have but I didn't want to because then I'd have to tell you about Mom and Silver Eyes and Uncle Qrow a-and— And now  _Blake_..."

Taiyang's arms wrapped around her. She assumed she had no more tears left to shed but apparently she was wrong.

"If we called you we would've known Qrow was okay." Ruby hiccuped. "But Blake is gone. We  _cremated_  her. She's  _dead_."

Yang started crying, but Ruby could not comfort her. Taiyang did not try either, other than to hold his daughters and rock them gently in his arms like he had when they were small. His eyes were glazed with years-old grief, but he did not speak. He did not give them sympathetic words that would mean nothing in the long run. He just allowed them to cry until they had no tears left to shed.

They held each other until Jaune came in.

"It's time to leave."

Two hours later, they were airborne with Sterlyn in the pilot's seat. Ruby pushed her grief out of her mind, knowing it would only distract her now. Her gaze drifted over her team— Weiss, Yang, JNPR, the nations, Winter, Penny, and Oscar— then to the newcomers.

Not many others on Patch had arrived in time to leave. Uncle Qrow promised to send them on another airship when they did. Only Neon, Flynt, and Team CRDL had showed up in time. They had been briefly informed of their mission. The plan was to meet Professor Goodwitch, Oobleck, Port, Peach, and Teams CFVY, BRNZ, NDGO, and all the other Huntsmen they could gather in the city. Many were already there, trying to combat the Grimm. All they had been told was that there was something in Beacon that could save them all and that the incoming team just needed to get inside and back out. It was  _technically_  true. Ruby hated not being able to tell them everything but there was no time.

It seemed Jaune agreed. "Ozpin. What is your past with Salem?"

Ozpin stiffened. His golden eyes flicked towards Neon. "Mister Arc—"

"Your reasons for keeping it secret don't matter anymore, Ozpin." Jaune said flatly. "This is the end."

Flynt was frowning. Neon looked confused. CRDL glanced at Oscar with varying degrees of shock and befuddlement. Ruby did not care. Jaune was right. This was  _it_. The last stand.

That truth finally dawned on Ozpin. His golden eyes widened, then slid closed, and he lowered his head. "Very well. I… suppose you deserve to know the truth. Please… do not interrupt me."

Cardin opened his mouth but Dove stepped on his foot, silencing him.

Ozpin's back straightened and he placed his hands atop his cane. "As many of you know, I was cursed to reincarnate by the Gods. What I didn't tell you is… I was a disciple of the God of Light. Salem was a disciple of the God of Darkness. They… created us to be their proteges. The Gods were restless. They wished to move on from this world, yet they did not wish to leave Remnant without… guides. So they…  _created_  Salem and I.

"We were meant to watch over Remnant in their stead. I would watch over and guide humanity, while she would keep the Grimm in check. Together, we would maintain balance, keeping one species from overwhelming the other as we watched over them from afar. Salem was not content to watch. She controlled the Grimm, but she saw humanity could be just as destructive as the creatures that hunted them. She thought we could guide humanity more directly."

"You mean lead them as  _Gods_." Arthur snarled.

Ozpin looked pained. "Yes. She asked me to join her and become the new Gods. Her as the Goddess of Darkness, and I as the next God of Light. I refused, and warned her to give up on her attempt to usurp the Gods. Rather than tell the Gods of her plan, I… gave her a chance. I did not inform anyone in the hope she would realize what she was doing. She appeared to listen and discard all plans of mutiny. Instead she merely worked from the shadows and kept me in the dark. As a result, I unknowingly stood by and did nothing while she plotted to destroy the Gods."

"Salem began building an army. She created many new types of Grimm, including ones that could be considered intelligent and almost human like herself. It took years, but Salem gathered the Relics and put them together, creating an artifact which could alter the very fabric of this world. She attempted to use it to kill the Gods, but they could not be destroyed by the thing which they created. They slaughtered her humanoid Grimm, and tore all the Relics from her grasp. Realizing she'd failed, Salem fled, hiding in the Dark Lands where the Gods could not find her."

"So the Gods looked to me for answers, and realized I had known. They cursed me to have a mortal's lifespan, but made it so I would reincarnate upon dying. My immortality was replaced by an endless cycle of life and death, and it was only through Salem's defeat that I would know peace."

The story was short. To the point. But Ruby supposed nothing else could be said now.

The final clock was ticking down.

Ozpin's past would no longer matter after this day.

Either they beat Salem today, or everything was lost.

The sun began to rise over the horizon.

XXXXXXX

" _Oh no."_

Vale's gasp was the first thing America heard when he drifted back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered and he sighed, feeling oddly relaxed and warm, like he was wrapped in a warm blanket. The warmth soon changed to fire, however, and he whimpered as it licked his back. It felt like someone had taken a cheese-grater to his skin, slicing every piece of flesh they found on his back.

" _Alfred,_ _ **get up!**_ _"_  Vale screamed at him.

Memory returned in a snap and America opened his eyes to see Salem.

Green light flared. The sacrificial dagger appeared in his hands and he stabbed at his chest. A hand grabbed his wrist before it could reach his skin. Roman twisted his wrist, snapping the bone, and America screamed. The criminal tore the dagger from his grasp and chucked it away. It skittered over tile and slid to a halt at Salem's feet. Roman grabbed America's other hand and pinned him down with his body.

"Whoo. That was close." he panted. "Where the hell did that come from?"

Salem picked up the dagger and studied it. "This dagger holds powerful magic. It has tasted Vale's blood, so it will seek him out until it claims his life." Her lip curled. "Ozpin has been delving into dark magic, it seems. Even now, he continues to be a nuisance."

She gripped the dagger's blade with both hands and snapped it. A blast of green light nearly threw Hazel and Emerald to the ground and the dagger turned into silver ash, fading away. America welcomed the distraction and tried to hook his legs around Roman's torso to throw him off but the criminal pinned him down, crushing his hands against his chest. His other hand caught America's throat and squeezed. America choked, fingers scratching at the hand crushing his windpipe, but they failed to break through Roman's Aura.

Roman panted and smirked. "Oh my, hasn't someone woken on the wrong side of the bed. Not in front of the boss, Blue. I'm trying to look professional."

America gritted his teeth and thrashed under Roman. The criminal kept him pinned down, smile growing wider the longer America struggled.

"You know, a few months ago you probably would've been able to crush my bones to dust with a pinch of your fingers." he mocked. "Now? Not so much."

America spat in his face.

Roman struck him before casually wiping the spittle away. "Now that he's awake, can I have some fun with him, boss? Pretty please? It's for stress relief."

"Perhaps." Salem said. "If he doesn't cooperate."

Roman grumbled in distaste and angrily tore the reappeared holster off of America's arm. He considered his prisoner's last article of clothing. "You got any more sheathes hidden in there? I'll gladly stick my knives in you— I mean, them." He grinned. "Oh, and before you consider continuing to resist..."

He grabbed America's chin and forcibly turned it to the side.

Canada stood in Emerald's grasp, her weapon at his throat and the Relic of Destruction on her back. Where were the other two Relics? America did not have the wherewithall to wonder as he saw the damage done to his twin. Canada's ashen skin was covered in veins, and although the reddish-violet eyes that stared at America were foreign, he would never mistake the pain and sorrow that haunted them. Slowly, the remaining light in Canada's gaze faded, leaving hollow tears behind.

"I'm sorry." Canada whispered, and tears slid down his bloody cheeks.

" _He told them how to wake us."_  Vale said tonelessly.

Still pinned beneath Roman, America began to tremble. The fire in his back grew fiercer and he did not need to be told why Canada woke him. Not that he blamed Mattie. He never would.

"It's okay, Mattie." he said, voice as firm as he could manage. "It's okay."

Canada lowered his head, glasses sliding down his nose and bony and black-veined shoulders shaking with sobs. He did not appear to notice when Emerald sliced his neck a little, leaving a line of dripping crimson in the wake of her knife.

"Oh, how cute." Roman crooned. "You're comforting your brother  _now_? Even after he  _betrayed_  you?"

America jerked upward and his forehead smacked into Roman's face. The criminal's nose broke with a satisfying crunch and he jerked away with a swear. America got his leg unwrapped from around Roman's body and kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling. Before he could rise, a large hand grabbed the back of his neck and something sharp pierced his throat.

Shock ripped through him— had he been stabbed?— before he recognized the unwelcome chill of the paralyzing drug. He went limp in Hazel's hold and the man grabbed him by the arm. He hastily put manacles back around his wrists. America was unable to scream as the position caused his injuries to pull. He noticed the collar was in Hazel's hand and realized it must have been off him. The man must have simply shoved it against his neck.

" _We could have used our Semblances."_  Vale choked brokenly.

Roman staggered to his feet, clutching his bloody nose. "Oh, I'm going to shove you against that door  _myself_." he snarled. "I'm going to pin you there with knives through your fucking throat and make you  _scream_ —"

"How long does the paralysis last?" Salem interrupted.

"Based on his built up immunity from repeated exposure, only a few minutes." Watts predicted.

Salem nodded slowly. "Watts, Mercury, send word to Adam and his forces up above. Guard the entrance. Make sure no one gets in."

Watts frowned. "But madame, surely no one—"

Salem's eyes narrowed to slits, silencing him. "Ozpin has ways of being a problem despite the odds. As that shows." She nodded at the sacrificial dagger's dust. " **Kill anyone who attempts to enter Beacon. Even if they appear to be an ally**."

Her voice held a slight echo, and America realized she was relaying the order to her Grimm as well.

Watts inclined his head. He and Mercury headed out.

"I shall lead us to the Vault." Salem stated.

She began to walk, almost gliding, and in a twisted mockery of a Queen leading her entourage. Emerald dragged Canada, America was pulled along by Hazel. Roman looked like he wanted to protest but bitterly kept his silence, shooting America the occasional mocking look. America's paralysis faded and he wondered why Hazel did not throw him over his shoulder like he always did.

" _Maybe he doesn't want to get puked on again?"_  Vale offered in a pathetic copy of her usual dry wit.

America did not laugh.

They headed through the halls of Beacon's outer Vault, turning corner after corner, and America soon lost track of which way they were headed. He soon gained his bearings as they passed by the Aura transfer machine. America caught a glimpse of a skeletal arm inside one of the pods and forced his gaze away.

" _Oh."_  Vale said faintly.

Now was not the time to comfort her, and America did not think he could manage it anyway. As America was dragged down another dark hallway— not like a member of the Queen's court or even a prisoner, but the white stag she had caught during a hunting trip and was putting on display. He saw Canada whimper and struggle slightly, and his glasses slipped out of place. They fell to the floor with a soft clink. Watching as they vanished into the darkness, America's mind scrambled for an excuse to delay.

"What did Ozpin do to you?" he blurted.

Salem paused. Her entourage halted behind her. America could hear Canada's harsh breathing.

The Queen of the Grimm looked at him and a shiver went up his spine. "He massacred my people. In return, I seek to do the same."

America's mouth went dry. His heart raced in his throat. "Are you… the Grimm's personification?" he breathed.

Salem smiled. "Not quite. I am simply their Queen." She turned away, and continued walking, ignoring how America struggled behind her. "I was once one of many Grimm with human-like intelligence. We may have crawled right out of the pools, or perhaps we became sentient over time. Either way, we had no interest in humans. We had our own continent, our own civilization. And I was the Queen." Her fingers clenched into fists. "We did not care about humanity, and humanity was unaware of us. Except  _Ozpin_ , the God of Light's disciple. Ozpin feared us.  _Hated_  us. Because we were Grimm with the intelligence and capacity of humans— but not for Aura— he saw us as unnatural. He pleaded with the Gods to  _destroy_  us, but they refused. So Ozpin hunted us down like  _animals_."

Again she halted in place. Her hand snapped out and grasped America's chin. For a moment she studied him, thumb drawing circles on his throat, before her expression warped into a snarl. She leaned forward, breath tickling his neck, and for a moment America thought she might tear his throat out with her teeth. Instead her mouth hovered near his ear.

"He destroyed my people. So I shall destroy humanity in return." she whispered. "It is only  _right_."

America's throat bobbed, so close to her sharp, claw-like nails, but he met her gaze steadily. "How do I know any of that is true?"

"You don't." Salem said simply and released him.

They continued through the darkness. America forsake caution in favor of clawing at Hazel's unbreakable hold. His fingernails failed to break through the man's Aura, not that Hazel would feel it anyway. A soft green glow lit the shadowy underbelly of Beacon, and it was too bright for America to pretend it was one of the flickering green torches. Roman reached over and yanked his head up, forcing him to see their destination.

They were in front of a giant green door that looked like it was made of giant, glowing leaves.

It was the door to Beacon's Vault. On the other side was the Relic of Choice.

Salem nodded at Hazel and America found himself with a close-up view of the door. Hazel kept a hand on America's head and another on his back, pinning him against the hard green surface. America could feel the engraving of the leaves leaving an imprint in his cheek and chest. Hazel's hand slid down his bloody back and he flinched.

"I'm sorry." Hazel murmured.

Salem stopped in front of America, stance regal and hands clasped neatly before her. "Use your Aura."

"No." America choked as Vale whispered hollow comforts in his mind.

Salem closed her eyes and exhaled, aura tense with lost patience. "Very well. Emerald."

Emerald yanked Canada into view. She shoved him against the door and he cried out, trembling so much America feared he may be having a seizure. Emerald held onto her prisoner, pinning him against the door, and America caught sight of the sword at her hip. Emerald looked at him, red eyes remorseless and cold, and calmly laid her hand on the Relic of Destruction.

America's heart turned to ice."No."

"Roman, hold him." Emerald requested.

Roman grabbed Canada and yanked him away from the door, keeping him in America's line of sight. Canada's chest heaved and his red-tinged violet eyes locked onto his brother. Emerald lifted the Relic of Destruction and leveled the tip at his throat.

"This is your last warning, Vale." Salem said. "Open the door."

" _Alfred, you_ _ **can't**_ _."_  Vale said, but he could hear her crying.

"No." America whispered. "No. No no _no—_ "

Salem sighed. "If that is your choice."

Emerald's smile widened, her grin sharp and distorted. Canada finally seemed to realize what was happening. The fear in his eyes faded, replaced by dull acceptance.

America lurched in Hazel's hold, skin sparking with electricity. "No,  _PLEASE!_ "

Canada's violet eyes met his. "Al—"

Blood sprayed.

Canada's eyes went round. His body jerked as a stream of red blossomed from his throat, dripping onto his chest. America did not even see the Vault door open. He did not notice Salem's pleased look, Roman's laughter, or Emerald's sadistic grin. All he saw was his brother as he fell to the ground, body trembling as he feebly clasped a hand to his bleeding throat.

" _MATTIE!_ "

America yanked himself free of Hazel's hold and ran towards his brother. Roman tackled him and he thrashed under the criminal's hold. He felt a flicker of Roman's cynical influence at the edge of his consciousness but it was swallowed by his grief as he screamed his brother's name.

" _Mattie!_  Mattie,  _hold on!_ "

Canada looked at him, breathing soft and shallow, and America could see the remaining color draining from his brother's skin. The hand stemming the flow of blood slipped limply down, exposing the slash across his throat. America screamed wordlessly, struggling to free himself from Roman, but Hazel grabbed him and yanked him up onto his shoulder.

Salem did not spar Canada a glance. "Let's move on. There's nothing of importance here."

She strode into the Vault, and the others followed, with Hazel carrying a screaming America.

"Mattie! _MATTIE!_ Please _let me help him! HE'S MY BROTHER! MY FAMILY! LET ME HELP HIM!_ _ **PLEASE!**_ "

Hazel tensed but kept on walking. America kept on screaming, kept on struggling, reaching towards Canada's unmoving body even though he had no hope of touching him. Abruptly, his view of his brother vanished, replaced by a wall covered in green leaves.

" _It's a_ _ **maze**_ _."_  Vale whispered.

America did not hear her. The fight drained out of him and he went limp, eyes blank and unseeing. Pain stabbed through his back as Hazel's grip on him tightened, but he did not notice. Even if he did notice, he would not care.

Because his twin was gone.

XXXXXXX

Back in the shadowy Vault lit only by green flames, an unmoving body lay in a spreading puddle of blood.

Pale golden hair was stained with red, and once-pink skin was cold and white.

But not lifeless.

Because though Salem acted decisively, though her plan was as cruel as it was resolute, there were two things Salem did not account for.

One, the precision of how the Relic of Destruction destroyed, and how it would adhere to its wielder's deepest desires which included a deep-rooted  _need_  to prolong her victim's suffering. Thus, the Relic hurt, but did not kill.

And two, that in a moment of unity, host and parasite would come together in a joint desire to  _survive_. Thus, the unified desire to  _live_.

Black tendrils slid through pale skin, crawling past a pulse that scarcely beat and to the gash that threatened them both. It slid through the cut, covering red with black, and used its unbreakable fluidity to seal the wound shut like oil filling a drum.

A minute passed.

Then two.

Then four.

Finally, a white, black-veined finger twitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little reminder that this was all planned and written before Volume 6 and this is an Alternate Universe for RWBY (in case that was not obvious by now). I was not about to change my plans to match canon's story, especially since I have two versions of "their past" from Salem and Ozpin.
> 
> That's the thing about history. People like to tell their own version to make themselves the hero. I will say each one has elements of truth to them. I will also say Ozpin and Salem both omitted things to make themselves look better. I'm leaving it ambiguous as to what. You can probably figure out the truth if you think about it.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented, left kudos, etc! And thanks for all the support. I'm still exhausted but I'm better. Might be getting sick though. Ugh.
> 
> We'll still be sticking to Friday updates for a little longer.


	35. Choose Wisely

The city of Vale had not changed much since the fall of Beacon Academy. It had changed since before that terrible day, but not much since. Smoke still rose from the remnants of burning buildings. The streets were mostly empty except for a few Grimm that prowled through trash and abandoned cars. This part of Vale was almost completely left to the Grimm, having been evacuated after Beacon fell.

_Just like Mount Glenn._

As Ruby gazed out the window of the borrowed airship, she decided it was so wrong to see the city like this. The sun was shining even with the smoke and Grimm prowling down below. Shouldn't the sky be dark and dreary, or at least overcast?

_This isn't a fairy tale, Ruby. Monsters don't only come out at night._

"We are going to  _stay together_." Arthur stated, pulling Ruby out of her thoughts. He glared at each of them, features sharp in the sunlight. "Our mission is Beacon, and anything that gets in our way.  _Nothing_  else, understand?"

Ruby's first thought jumped to civilians in trouble, but she realized that there were none left in this part of the city. Writhing blackness caught her eye and she looked ahead, breath hitching when she saw what surrounded Beacon. It was like a  _tornado_  of Grimm had formed around the Academy, blocking it from sight completely. Ruby would like to say "Overkill" but she was too speechless. Even that time before they crashed, she had never seen so many Grimm before. Winter followed her gaze and grimaced.

"I'll tell Sterlyn head down sooner than we planned. It appears we'll have to walk."

"But there's hundreds of Grimm in the streets." Russel Thrush blurted.

Winter pinned him with a cool glare. "And there are  _thousands_  in the air."

"Plus the dragon." Francis murmured, rapt gaze out the window. "I do not see it. But based on the number of Grimm I do see, it is here."

Lovino paled. " _Dragon_?"

Winter inclined her head, acknowledging the former man's words. "We have a better chance on the ground."

"I'll tell Sterlyn." Weiss said and hurried to the cockpit.

"The rest of you, prepare yourselves." Winter ordered sharp gaze scanning them all. "I suspect we are not going to have a choice when we land."

"I've shielded the airship." Arthur reported. "But it's not impenetrable."

Winter took his warning with grace. The airship trembled and Oscar shifted nervously, glancing worriedly at the ceiling. Ruby did not know why Ozpin had retreated now of all times, but she could not say she was disappointed. He was probably hoping to save energy until they had to face Salem.

Ruby tapped her weapon on her leg, watching the desolate buildings go by down below. Most had Grimm crawling up the sides or landing on the roofs. Ruby tapped her weapon faster on her leg, gripping and releasing it, until a calloused hand grasped hers. Yang smiled at her sister.

"Don't be so tense, Rubes. This is just like any other battle."

"But it  _isn't_." Ruby said, keeping her voice low. "If we lose..."

"Then we don't have to worry about it." Weiss sat on Ruby's other side and grasped her free hand. She shrugged. "I know it's pessimistic but it's true. If we win, we win. If we lose… nothing can be done."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Ruby asked.

"Maybe." Weiss said. "The point is, you have to focus  _everything_  on the fight. Don't let yourself freeze up because of what might happen."

Francis looked up from cleaning his saber. The metal already shone, but Ruby had an inkling he was not cleaning it because of dirt. "That's good advice, if a bit warped."

Weiss brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Fine. Let me put it this way: As our leader, it's your duty to focus on the here and now. Focus on the mission, okay?"

The advice felt familiar, but Ruby needed to hear it right then. This was nothing special. It was just another mission. She felt the tension in her body ease and she exhaled slowly. "Okay."

"I see White Fang." Ren reported sharply.

Cardin gritted his teeth. "Of course the Grimm don't attack  _them_."

Weiss shot him a glare and he hastily averted his gaze. Ruby peered at the streets below and saw human figures milling about, discernible from the Grimm only through their shape. As she watched the White Fang walk among the Grimm without the slightest fear of being attacked— while the Grimm attacked so many other people— Ruby wondered what Blake would think of them. What she would say.

Among the sea of black and white, Ruby saw a head of familiar red hair. She involuntarily gasped, and Yang followed her gaze and did as well. Her eyes turned crimson.

" _Adam_."

Even with all her speed, Ruby was too slow to react.

"Yang,  _no!_ "

Her hand closed around empty air.

The airship door was open, and her sister was already gone.

"We've got her!" Neon shouted.

She jumped fearlessly out of the airship, followed by Flynt.

Arthur watched them go and put a hand to his forehead. "Why do I even bother?"

It took everything Ruby had not to scream at Sterlyn to turn around. To tell the truth, she might be too shocked by her sister and Neon's actions to react. Weiss grabbed her and they locked eyes. Her partner slowly shook her head.

"We can't."

Ruby opened her mouth to say that this was Yang. Yang had gone after Adam alone. Sure, Neon and Flynt were chasing her, but she was uncertain how much help they would be. Yang was her  _sister_. Weiss's  _friend_. Taiyang's  _daughter_. They could not leave her…

Except they had to. Yang had made her choice. She chose to leave the group and go after Adam when their mission was to get to Beacon. If that choice got her hurt or killed—

No, Ruby could not think like that. She had to focus on the mission.

The airship shuddered.

"They noticed us!" Sterlyn shouted.

"Get us to the ground and get out of here." Arthur ordered.

Ruby felt the airship descend. She stood up, as did everyone else, weapons held at the ready. Penny's swords hovered at her shoulders, with two loose ones gripped in her hands. A glance out the window showed the street below was relatively clear of enemies, but they were still so far from Beacon. It would have to do. The airship doors opened and they sprang out, Sterlyn's shout following behind them.

"I expect all of you back on my ship later. Don't you die, you hear me?"

As the pilot lifted off, shooting towards the stabler part of the city, the black blobs flying towards them ignored him completely. He was not their targets. Ruby aimed Crescent Rose and shot a Griffon out of the sky. Many of its kin fell, but most of them evaded death. They circled around the Huntsmen and Huntresses, shrieks piercing the air like alarms.

Jett twirled his daggers. "I think they know we're here."

Ruby did not have time to answer him before the Griffons descended upon them.

XXXXXXX

"Oh, did you  _see_  all that blood? The way it spurted out of his neck like a cut hose? What an awful way to go. How much do you think he felt? Was he choking and unable to breathe as he died, or did he go numb? What do you think, Blue?"

America ignored Roman's taunts as best he could. He could not lift his hands to cover his ears, but even if his hands were unbound, he did not think he would manage it anyway. The cold inside his chest was too deep and empty for his heart to still be there. He could feel it beating, but knew the vessel was nothing but a broken shell. When they got to the Relic of Choice, America did not think he was going to resist.

" _Alfred, we_ _ **can't**_ _activate the Relic of Choice for them."_  Vale said shakily. She hesitated.  _"If we do, England will die too."_

Some semblance of emotion stirred in America's dead heart.

" _Yes. That's right. Canada— Your twin is… He's dead. But England's_ _ **alive**_ _."_  He could hear the tears in her voice even as Vale encouraged him.  _"And so are Japan and France and Penny and Pyrrha and Australia and Lithuania and all the other people you care about. That's why we need a plan. We need a plan_ _ **right now**_ _."_

America swallowed roughly.  _I don't want them to die._

" _They— They_ _ **will**_ _if you don't fight."_  Vale said, tone slightly stiff, as if she was not saying what she wanted to.  _"Look around. What can we use?"_

America apathetically scanned the tall green walls they walked through, and belatedly realized Vale was right. This was some kind of hedge maze. He wondered why Salem did not just tear through the leaves to reach the Relic's chamber but spotted a familiar glint of green magic on the walls. If she or her followers touched them, would it act like the temple's defenses?

America felt a prick and his body slumped. Hazel yanked him away from Roman, shooting him a disapproving glare.

"Why did you drug him?"

"He was looking around and plotting." Roman claimed. "Since his brother is  _d-e-a-d_  we have to do  _something_  to keep him from trying anything."

America's vision blurred. Roman made a sickening cooing sound and patted his cheek mock-consolingly. "Aww, don't be sad. You still have another brother. Who cares if you lost one?" The criminal grinned. "Then again, he'll be dead soon, too. And  _all_  of your people."

Hazel halted in place.

Roman walked into his back and swore, glowering at Hazel and muttering under his breath. The large man ignored the criminal and looked to Salem, gaze sharp.

"I thought you said Earth would be left unharmed." he said neutrally.

Salem frowned at him but stopped as well, keeping her distance from the maze's walls. "Perhaps. It depends on how cooperative young Vale is. And whether his brother decides to be a nuisance. Now come along."

Despite the warning in her tone, Hazel did not move. "So America's people will be killed then?"

America forgot how to breathe.

" _Stay calm. You can't be afraid now._ _ **Stay calm**_ _."_  Vale begged him.

" _Only_  if he doesn't cooperate." Salem reminded him but her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Hazel met her gaze. "And what of Vale's citizens? What of  _all_  of Remnant?"

"You're questioning her  _now_?" Emerald snorted. "Are you stupid or what?"

Salem raised a hand, silencing her. She looked Hazel directly in the eye. "They die."

Her words— spoken coldly in a callous and disinterested tone— caused a bucket of ice water to fall on America's head, chilling him to the bone. He had always known Salem had no intention of sparing any people on Remnant, but to hear her confirm it so  _casually_...

Hazel's fingers flexed. "You told me that you would  _undo_  the damage we caused. You said only Ozpin and his followers would be harmed. You said only  _they_  would be erased. The rest of the world was manipulated by him. They are innocent so they would be left in peace—"

"Humanity follows him." Salem interrupted dismissively. "They are all guilty of his crimes. Except all of you. You have served me faithfully, so you will be rewarded in my new world."

"Oh, goodie." Roman said, though he radiated relief. He twitched when Salem looked at him but mustered a nervous smile. "Thanks, boss—"

Hazel silently set America down. Black crystals glinted in his hands and he stabbed them into his arms. Energy flared over his skin and he struck the ground.

A black pulse comparable to a lightning storm burst out and Salem, Roman, and Emerald went flying. They floated in midair, bodies stiff and unmoving, and America swore he could see the air currents swirling around them. Or  _was_  it air? He pushed himself off the ground and gaped at Hazel.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Hazel did not look at him. "What I should have done as soon as I questioned my mission."

He briefly reached into his pocket and pulled something out, shoving it at America. The nation instinctively grabbed the item and recognized his glasses.

Hazel did not see his surprised glance. "America, get the Relic and  _run_."

Salem's red eyes narrowed to slits and her body quivered with rage. Black energy rippled over her skin, pulsing like it was trapped in an invisible cage.

America hesitated. "But—"

" **HAZEL!** " Salem's roar made the maze quake. Her shadows and Grimm arms lurched along the ground but failed to rise, unable to fight through Hazel's gravity. " **Release me.** "

Hazel stabbed another Gravity Dust Crystal into his arm. "No."

Salem's expression twisted. "I can  _destroy_  Ozpin. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Hazel shook his head. "Not at the cost of the whole world. I was a  _fool_. I never should have believed you would undo the deaths you and Ozpin caused." His lip curled in disgust— at her, or himself?

Salem's eyes narrowed to slits. " **I'll** _ **kill**_ **you.** "

Hazel shoved America away and briefly glared at him with monochromatic black eyes. " _Go!_ "

America ran, shoving his glasses onto his face. Behind him, he heard Salem's scream. It tore through the air like the Nuckelavee's shriek, and America staggered, ears dripping blood. He briefly turned back and saw Hazel had slammed Salem into the magical wall.

Smoke wafted from her body and she writhed and shrieked, but America knew that would not kill her. Knowing Hazel stood no chance against Salem, he hobbled along the wall— it made his fingers tingle but did not harm him— and kept going, even though he had no idea where the Relic was. Vale gasped.

" _I know the correct path."_  She breathed.  _"It follows the way to my old bedroom back at the castle. Go left."_

America ran around a corner.

" _Right."_

He followed her directions.

" _Straight ahead. Go past three turns and down the fourth one."_

America put on a burst of speed and skidded around a corner. He took the set of stairs two at a time, nearly tripping on the last one, and kept running. His lungs burned, his injuries ached, but he forced himself to keep going, shoving everything away except their destination.

He skidded around another corner and stumbled to a halt, gaze falling upon the archway that swooped over the path ahead. America's heart hammered in his chest and he gulped, inching carefully forward. No traps sprang to ensnare him and he walked cautiously underneath the archway. The chamber was completely dark and he hesitantly lit a flaming hand so he could see.

Green light flared and the green-flamed torches along the walls lit up. The room almost reminded him of one of those old Gothic castles. Arches curved across the ceiling, pillars lined the walls, and America could see Vale's symbol glowing brightly, carved into the ceiling and lighting the area below. America swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.

In front of him was an altar at the top of a set of marble stairs. Atop that altar floated the Relic of Choice. At first glance, it reminded him of a Greek laurel wreathes. As he approached the altar, stepping up the stairs, he realized how wrong he was.

After seeing the Relic of Creation, America honestly should have expected Choice to be so big. He cautiously picked it up with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy. He wavered under the weight of Choice but secured it in his arms. Its crown of gold-tinged leaves were much too large for him to hide with his arms alone. Its ends peaked at his shoulders and its arc curved down below his navel. Whoever these Gods were, they had to be pretty big guys.

_It's so large and cumbersome. How are humans even supposed to wear this thing?_

" _My King wore it. It can shrink."_  Vale mentioned.

_Great!_ America thought.  _How?_

" _Um..."_

America grimaced.

He heard the distant taps of hurried footsteps. America looked frantically for another way out of the chamber but saw none. Maybe if he ran out quickly enough he could slip into a dead end and let Salem run by—

He heard the taps become rhythmic thuds, growing steadily louder. He jumped and his gaze snapped to the open doorway. Lightning flared defensively over his skin, crackling in eager preparation for combat.

The Relic of Choice glowed gold.

America gaped at it in horror. "No." he croaked. "No! Stop. Deactivate. Cease!  _Turn off!_ "

The Relic of Choice ignored his pleas, glowing a serene gold. America took the Relic created by the Gods and shook it frantically. The light waved like flames in a soft wind but did not go out. Maybe if he smacked it it would deactivate again? He tried just that but it did not get the message and continued to glow. America bit back a frustrated sob and ran down the stairs. He had to get the Relic out of here—

Two figures appeared in the doorway, blocking the exit. Both halted, looking up at him. One was human, scarred and violently fueled by petty grievances, while the other wore a mask of serenity and calm, pretending to be a Goddess when she was in fact a vengeful demon as petty at the man.

Salem and Roman were here.

Hazel and Emerald were not.

Although America could hope his tentative "ally" was not dead, there was no one else he could turn to now.

Salem's gaze zeroed in on the Relic and she held out an elegant, black-veined hand. "Thank you for unlocking my Relic, Vale. Now,  **give it to me**."

America backed up a step and mutely shook his head. Hiding it behind his back was ludicrous, so he weakly clutched the Relic of Choice to his chest. Salem tracked him with her eyes as he backed up another step, then another, until he was at the top of the stairs and his back hit the altar. He blinked and Salem was in front of him.

America blasted her back and she flew down the stairs. She twisted in midair and landed elegantly at the bottom, too close to the door for him to have any hope of slipping past her. She idly brushed off her black dress and met his gaze.

"This is your last chance to avoid  _unimaginable_  suffering and pain, child." she said in an unsettling, pleasant tone. "Give me the Relic and you can live."

America could imagine a lot of unimaginable things. He could picture  _exactly_  what Salem could do to him. He could not defeat her. He could not escape before she grabbed him. If he fought back, she would pry the Relic from his hands and torture him to death for daring to briefly deny her her victory.

But he thought about Canada. He thought about England. He thought about Japan, Tony, Lithuania, Ruby, Pyrrha, all of his friends, his boss, his people, and even the countless strangers—  _innocents_ — on both Remnant and Earth. He knew if he gave Salem the Relic, they all would be killed. Every last one of them would be slaughtered by the Queen of the Grimm. So he looked Salem in the eye, held the Relic against his torso, and spoke.

"I'd rather die."

He could not let her get it.

He  _would not_  let her get it.

He would protect the Relic of Choice until his dying breath.

He had made his choice.

The Relic of Choice glowed gold.

**Pain.**

America screamed as his torso  _burned_. Before his stunned, blurry eyes, the Relic of Choice sank through his flesh and into his torso like a knife tearing through flesh. He had a moment of horrified clarity before  **agony**  overwhelmed him. Every leaf of the Relic was like a knife through his organs, and he could feel every shift and twitch it made as it settled inside him like a flaming, feral monster that decided his entrails were its next meal.

He distantly heard Vale screaming, her words almost lost in the pain.  _"Stop! Stop hurting him!"_

Nothing physically tore, and yet something  _ripped_  inside him and he curled up, howling in agony. The flaming leaves curved with him, shining through his skin, and again he wondered how the Relic did not break. As his insides boiled and burning leaves etched their way into his flesh, America faintly questioned how the heck the Relic managed to fit in there. He had to laugh hysterically at his inane questions, and yet even that laughter became screams as the Relic  **burned him alive from the inside**.

" _Hurt me instead!"_

The pain faded. Not completely, but enough that America knew he was still alive.

The ground America lay on was mercifully cold. He did not recall falling, though his elbows and knees stung from the impact. That stinging was nothing compared to the pain that radiated from his collar bone to his chest to his gut to his pelvis. It was as if someone had taken a meat grinder to his organs before scooping everything out with a white-hot grapefruit spoon, and for a moment he was too afraid to look and see if that was the case. He moaned, curling into a ball, and his skin burned his hands.

Footsteps reminded him he was not alone but it was too late to run. He was not sure he had the strength to rise. He certainly did not have the strength to crawl away. He could only lay there as Salem's shadows shoved him, forcing him flat on his back and revealing his torso.

" _Alfred— what did you_ _ **do**_ _?"_ Vale breathed. Her breath hitched and she grunted, like she had barely bitten back a scream.

America could not respond. Through the pain-tinged haze, he gaped at his body. Gold-tinged, leaf-shaped burns stretched up America's torso, starting at his shoulders as they followed an elegantly curved path down his sides before dipping beneath his waistline. It was as if someone had carefully etched the background of Vale's symbol into his skin, painting each leaf gold with precise care. America could see every vein of the leaves, every jagged edge, and if it were not inside his body, he might admire the supposed work of art or mistake it for a fancy tattoo.

It was not a work of art.

It was not a fancy tattoo.

America slowly looked up at Salem, and almost had to laugh. It was the first time he ever saw the Queen of the Grimm look surprised. The stunned expression she wore almost made her look human. Her mouth moved wordlessly before she shook herself. Hand-like shadows sprang from the ground and pinned America down. He was in too much pain to even think of resisting. The only reason he struggled was in an attempt to curl up into a ball in an effort to soothe his boiling nerves. Salem walked up to him, brushing a lock of white hair out of her face.

"Well. I should have expected this." Her hand briefly brushed her chest before it fell to her side. "But I suppose the end result is the same." Salem crouched down and laid a hand on America's abdomen, over the leaves. "Relic, I choose—"

Gold light flared and she was airborne. Salem hit a pillar and fell to the ground in a heap. Roman flinched, like he wanted to approach his fallen boss but thought better of it. Salem pushed herself onto her feet and stormed back up to America, a dark aura flaring around her. She flicked her hand.

America braced for pain but nothing happened. The shadows around his wrists and ankles did not spring. Instead they held him almost gently. Salem looked from the shadows to America's body to her smoking hand. She flexed her fingers.

"I see. Choice always was the most irritating of humanity's gifts. Your body is the new Vault, and I cannot harm you." Her eyes narrowed. " _I_  cannot."

She tried to stomp on his arm but was sent stumbling. She caught herself, skin crackling with black energy, and her eyes filled with hate. America's only consolation was that she did not have Destruction with her. He did not want to think about what she would do to him with it if she did.

"You'd rather die? Very well." Salem's voice gained the eerie echo it had as she spoke to her forces. " _ **Attack America's capital. Destroy the City of Vale.**_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, America. You should have known better than to think self-sacrificial things when holding an ancient Relic with a loose definition of "choice".
> 
> And Salem lies like a lying liar. In case it wasn't obvious by now, she told each of her followers what they wanted to hear: that when she won and remade the world, their desires would become reality.
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos! Tell me what you think.


	36. The Final Defensive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a bit early because I don't think I'll have time tomorrow.

Germany paced back and forth, glancing at his watch. He was exactly fifteen minutes early to his meeting with Agent Jasper Tarleton, but had no doubt the man would be arriving early as well. A huge nature park outside of DC was not ideal for what was about to happen, but it may just work in their favor. The area had been quietly closed off, and there was no chance of civilians getting caught in the crossfire. Any 'civilians' that lingered nearby were not what they appeared to be.

Germany sat on an isolated bench and looked at the wide, open expanse around him. The area he had chosen was rather rocky, with a thick forest all around. He could hear the river rushing down its path nearby, and if he took a few steps forward, he would be able to see it frothing down below. He made a mental note of the churning water and the falls it led to and settled in his seat to wait. He did not have to sit around for long.

Agent Tarleton arrived seven minutes early. Rather than his usual suit, he wore the clothes of an average civilian. Cargo pants, a t-shirt, and a jacket for the chilly breeze that came from the water below. Germany glanced at his watch and stood up, waiting for Tarleton to come to him. The man smiled— so much like America— and offered his hand.

"Mister Beilschmidt." he greeted.

Germany shook his hand. "Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

"Of course." Tarleton said. He glanced around. "Though I didn't expect you to choose Great Falls Park as a meeting place."

Germany shrugged. "It's less obvious than a meeting room or America's home."

Tarleton chuckled. "I suppose so. What did you need to tell me?"

Germany averted his gaze, staring strictly towards the river. "America has been captured by Salem."

He watched Tarleton's reaction out of the corner of his eye. The man's smile had vanished and his skin was ashen even in the sunlight.

"What can we do?" he asked.

"Nothing." Germany admitted reluctantly. "We do not know the situation on Remnant. If we send more people there, they could appear in a war zone at best." He glanced at the watch Tony had given him.

"You're saying we should sit back and leave America in enemy hands. Surely we can take the risk?" Tarleton demanded. He remembered who he was talking to and winced. "Sorry."

"It is alright." Germany said. "I know Americans can be passionate about their country."

Tarleton kept his composure but his slightly red cheeks gave him away. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. For me personally, knowing that there is a  _person_  who represents my people and seeing him so, so— ...not  _carefree_ , but…  _optimistic_ and _hopeful_ … Well, call me an old man but it brings out my protective side." Tarleton dragged a hand through his hair. "I know he is hundreds of years old but he looks so damn  _young_."

"I understand what you mean. Even by nation standards he is quite young." Germany glanced down. "Your loyalty to him is admirable."

He looked at the 'watch' Tony had given him. It did not tell time. It showed that the seventeen Aura signatures around them had slowly become forty-eight.

"I served in the Army before I became a Secret Service agent. Almost my whole live has been spent serving my country, I would lay down my life for him." Tarleton said.

Claws closed around Germany's heart. "No, you won't." He put a hand on the man's shoulder and leaned close, whispering in his ear. " _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality..._ "

Tarleton stiffened under his hand, but— as though he sensed what Germany was doing— he did not pull away. Blue light flared over the agent's skin and he gaped at his hand. The shot that would have killed Tarleton bounced off his chest. Another shot flew across the river and a body fell from a tree. Germany only caught a glimpse of brown hair before China fell upon the Atlas soldier like a bird of prey. It took two blows for the woman's white Aura to fade, and a single bullet to end her.

An explosion plumed out from within the trees but Germany was already moving. Despite his orders to hang back, the nations of AGATE were already engaged with the enemy. Prussia locked blades with a sword-wielding woman. Lithuania faced an axe-wielding man. Weapons clashed and energies flared, some less identifiable than others. What part of "Stay back" did these people not understand?

A pulse of energy rippled through the air and Germany fell to his knees. Pressure closed around his head, like he had been underwater for too long, and his skull felt like it was about to burst. He spotted a soft glow from within the trees and fired at it. The Atlas spy hit the ground and Finland's bayonet emerged from his chest. He yanked it free and the Atlas spy fell.

Prussia spotted Germany and silently tossed him his weapon, holding his sword in both hands. As Germany caught his ahlspiess, his senses tingled and he ducked. An orange-tinged light flickered past him and hit a tree, which burst into flames. He spotted movement on the other side of the river. Prussia followed his gaze and scowled.

"On it."

He dashed to the river and deployed his glaive, launching himself across the rocky water. A gunshot propelled him safely over the water and to the other side, where he vanished into the trees. Germany held back a curse and followed his foolish older brother. He launched himself over the river, rolling to lessen the impact of his landing.

Distant gunfire came from his previous position but over here it was eerily silent. He guessed any animals had vacated the area, scared off by the sounds of the fighting. Germany shifted his glaive into its semi-automatic rifle form and cautiously crept into the woods. The bright sunlight and serene nature was lost to him as every rustling leaf and cracking twig set him on edge. A particularly loud crack sent him spinning to his back and a lean figure stepped out of the shadows, hands raised. It was a struggle to keep his expression blank.

"Agent Aster."

"Germany."

John Aster, the Atlas spy that masqueraded as an American Secret Service agent greeted the nation much too calmly for his liking. Looking at him— with his plain blond hair and blue eyes— Germany could not help but think how American he seemed. Everything from his easy posture to his crow's feet— the sign of a person who smiled often— just  _screamed_  friendliness and trust.

There was just something about his face and his earnest blue eyes that made Germany feel… almost  _protective_  of him. If Germany did not know better, he would think the man was about to ask him to sit at a campfire and offer him a meal. Like he was a poor innocent who had done no wrong, who had been caught up in all of this—

That was not right.

Something  _wasn't right—_

"Please don't shoot." Aster said, hands stilled raised. "We do not need to fight."

When had it gotten foggy? Germany blinked, trying to clear his vision, but kept his gun trained on the Atlas spy. "It's too late for you to make such claims. Not when your actions can be seen as declaring  _war_."

"No. You are mistaken, Germany. We mean Earth no harm." Aster said quietly.  _Passionately_. "We only came here to research your world, nothing more."

"You infiltrated America's government." Germany said lowly. "You gave his identity to your Kingdom and the information they needed to kidnap him."

"I didn't know." Aster whispered, and the peaceful mask cracked to reveal something hurt and sorrowful. Germany felt the foreign urge to comfort the poor man. "I swear to you I did not know Atlas intended to hurt America. I thought she merely wanted the personifications' identities to add to my report. It is as I said, we came here to scout your world to better understand it."

"You did more than that." Germany said. The words almost stuck in his throat.

Aster grimaced. "You're right. And I'm sorry about that. But even though my Kingdom's mission changed, mine has not. I care about this planet, and it's people, and we all still have the same enemy: the Grimm."

Germany found himself nodding in agreement, though a thought nagged at him so he spoke it. "Then why come here in secret? Why linger in the shadows and infiltrate our world?"

A flicker of anger flashed across Aster's face but his expression smoothed out. "Do you really think you would accept us if we appeared to you?"

Germany had to acknowledge they would not. Finding out there were superhuman beings with questionable motivations would not have gone over well in the slightest, especially if their presence opened Earth up to the Grimm. But that was what happened anyway, and it was in no way Atlas's fault. They did not intend for Salem to find Earth. They came here out of curiosity and nothing more. This man had done no wrong— had moved far from home and everything he knew just to learn— yet they were hunting him like an animal.

Aster was right. Why were they fighting?

Germany felt his muscles ease. Aster smiled at him and he felt his lips curve in response. He was… smiling? That was not right. He rarely smiled, usually only around his dogs. He certainly would  _not_  smile at this man, this  _enemy_ —

He blinked and a rifle was in his face. He blinked again and a blur of whitish-blue slammed into Aster. The Atlas spy's leg froze to the ground and he grunted, breaking the ice. Before he could move, Prussia descended from above, landing on the soldier feet-first. The snap of a breaking bone failed to shock Germany out of the haze and he blinked lethargically as his brother and Aster tussled. He should help… one of them. But who?

Aster kicked Prussia away but the nation got a hit in return, foot connecting with the side of the agent's knee. Aster swore lowly and shoved Prussia away, holding his weapon— When had it become a spear?— defensively. The sense of wrongness grew stronger and Germany's heart ached. What was Prussia doing? Why was he hurting this man?

Aster frowned. "Why aren't you affected?"

"Oh, are you doing something?" Prussia snarled. His gaze flicked to Germany and narrowed. "Playing up sympathy, hmm? I have no sympathy for  _cowards_. You were the one ordering your spies around yet you sit safely away from the battlefield while they lose their lives. What commander does that?"

Aster said nothing and glared stonily at Prussia.

"Are you afraid to give your life for your cause? Is that it? I have good news for you, then." Prussia bared his teeth into a savage grin. "You get to come with me."

Aster gritted his teeth and raised his sword. A lance of pain stabbed through Germany's head and he felt the urge to rise to the agent's defense. He resisted the urge only because the  _wrongness_  that accompanied it like an oily shadow. He remained locked in place as Aster stepped backwards and… slashed at thin air? A perplexed expression crossed his face and he stumbled backwards, wobbling uncertainly. His eyes dilated and he clutched at his head, gaze roaming wildly like a trapped deer.

Prussia watched him struggle with a mischievous but slightly malicious look in his eye. "How do you like having your mind messed with? Well, it's not your mind, but your  _senses_  are close enough. Since you are so confused, let the awesome me teach you. Up is down, left is right, forward is back…" He took a small device out of his pocket. "...and the awesome me does not listen to  _spineless cowards_."

Prussia punched Aster in the face. As the agent staggered, he closed the device around his arm, flicking it on. Electricity arced over Aster's body and he screamed. His Aura faded to nothing and Prussia grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards into the woods. Germany's foggy mind instantly cleared and he called to the other nations.

"Initiating Eagle-Strike! Pull back!" he commanded.

The other nations immediately disengaged from their enemies and retreated across the river and into the trees. The Atlas spies paused and hung back, likely expecting a trap, but Germany knew they would soon pursue the nations.  _Damn it._  This was why he ordered them to remain out of sight—

Russia stopped beside him— eyes never leaving the spies— and smiled. He raised his hands, and small, cheerful balls of light floated from his palms. The Atlas spies paused, staring at the sunny balls of light as though transfixed. Weapons lowered, eyes glazed, and some reached out to touch the fairy-like orbs.

They exploded.

Russia watched the carnage with a maniacal grin. Germany tore his own gaze away from the flames and glanced at his watch, noting the labeled Auras he around him. He put a hand to his communicator.

"We're clear!"

" _Fire!_ " an American voice shouted.

Gunshots echoed through the desolate park, rapid and unforgiving. The Atlas spies may have Aura, but it could not withstand hundreds of bullets and armor-piercing rounds. One by one they fell, until only the sound of the river remained. Germany would call overkill but after seeing how much firepower it took to take them down, he could not in good conscience. An agent in SWAT gear nudged a fallen soldier with his foot and looked at the shattered trees around them.

"Who would have thought a tornado would touch down here." he said blandly.

Germany decided all Americans were crazy. Then again, he already knew that. He left the agents to clean up and stopped beside Russia, who surveyed the damage he caused with a pleased expression. Germany studied the scorched areas the light-bombs had left behind.

"Was that your Semblance?" he asked carefully.

From fifty yards away, Prussia shot his brother a deeply offended glare. "Hey! You're supposed to ask  _me_  that, West!"

Germany ignored him.

Russia nodded. "I discovered it back on Remnant. The little lights are cute and harmless-looking like me but get too close..." He made an explosion sound.

Germany knew that if Japan had been aware of that little fact, he would have shared it with him. "Why didn't you tell us?"

" _Hello!_  What about my  _awesome_  Semblance? I'm perfectly willing to explain." Prussia called.

"Why would I?" Russia asked cheerfully. "You were so determined to hide how Aura works from me."

Germany did not recall doing that but kept silent. Who knew Russia could hold a grudge? Well, hopefully it was only a grudge. Preferably a minor one. Germany shook his head and stepped forward… only to move backwards. He froze in place and blinked, noticing everything was upside down. His eye twitched.

"Prussia."

Prussia smiled at him. "West! I see you've noticed my Semblance. I can  _reverse_  your senses and make everything backwards. Isn't it so  _awesome_?" He frowned thoughtfully and tipped his head. "Oot sgniht raeh uoy woh esrever nac I fi rednow I. Nac I!" He did a little dance.

Germany felt a headache building, and it was only partly because everything was still upside down. "Prussia, not the time."

Prussia huffed and the world righted itself. Germany shook his head to clear it and ignored Prussia's smug grin. He saw Denmark and Poland heckling Aster— with Lithuania standing off to the side— and decided to interfere before something happened. Denmark had his arm around the man's tense shoulders, and even though his hands were cuffed, Germany did not trust the Atlesian at all. As he approached, he wondered who he was more worried about— Aster, or Denmark?

"—You spent all those years spying on us and now it's all gone. Poof. Just because you got  _greedy_." Denmark mocked. "Let me guess: You got scared and wanted to capture one of us to use us as leverage so we'd get off your backs."

The Atlas soldier glowered at him stonily.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but your sneaky spy-games were found out  _ages_  ago. Sending a single guy to try to sneak one of us away was not a great plan." Denmark continued.

"Stop being flippant. This isn't all of them." Lithuania chided him. "Just the ones that were close by." He did not look grace the soldier with a single glance. "Once we attach Tony's device to a satellite we'll find the rest."

Aster sneered.

Lithuania held out his gun to Poland. "Hold this, please."

Poland took the rifle. Lithuania nodded in thanks and turned around, punching Agent Aster in the face. The Atlas spy's nose  _crunched_  and he fell like a bag of rocks. Lithuania looked down at the man likely responsible for America and Canada's capture and flexed his fingers, exhaling slowly.

"That was for America."

He stepped back and let the American agents take the man. Poland cheerfully locked an Aura-blocking collar around his neck and twiddled his fingers as Aster was dragged away.

Tarleton stopped next to Germany. "Do you have an issue with us taking him?"

"No." Germany said. "He's a traitor to your country. In more ways than one."

Tarleton's eyes grew shadowed. "I cannot believe it. He was always so curious about the workings of our country and other nations… I thought he was just that: curious. I never saw his real intentions."

"His Semblance is subtle. And he was likely sent here only to gather information at first." Germany acknowledged. "It was only when Atlas needed America that his mission changed."

Tarleton's expression was cold. "We'll find out soon enough." He shot Germany a look. "Thank you for telling me I was being used as bait, by the way."

Germany allowed himself a slight cringe. "I'm sorry I did not inform you. I could not let Aster find out the true purpose of this meeting."

"Understood." Tarleton grunted. He flexed his hands and looked down at them. "You gave me Aura."

"Yes." Germany admitted.

Tarleton paused, glancing sidelong at him. "Why me?"

"You were at a disadvantage." Germany said. "And if I got you killed, America would never let me hear the end of it."

"Damn right he wouldn't." Tarleton muttered. Again, he considered his hands. "I had a feeling one of you would unlock a human's Aura. I never considered that  _you_  would be the one to do it. It looks like Earth is going to change, and I'm test subject number one." Tarleton ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "I'm going to have to do so much paperwork."

"My condolences." Germany said genuinely.

_Beep beep beep beep beep._

His phone was out of his pocket and to his ear before he fully registered the alarm. "Report."

" _Sir."_ The usual agent's voice was notably shaky as he spoke. _"Grimm are heading towards Washington DC. Hundreds of them."_

Tarleton overheard the agent's message. His eyes went wide and he began speaking rapidly into his communicator. "This is Tarleton. Code Black inbound to home base. Evacuate Eagle One immediately."

"Is there a Spawner?" Germany demanded.

" _No."_ The agent took a shaky breath.  _"There are_ _ **three**_ _."_

XXXXXXX

_Get to Beacon. Just get to Beacon. Get to Beacon._

The words repeated themselves like a mantra in Oscar's head as he slashed and shot through Grimm after Grimm, always keeping Ruby's red cloak in sight. The ground and sky was not grey and blue, but black, with the only clear spot near their frantically fighting group. They never stayed in one place too long, instead heading towards the school as directly as they could. Hit and run. Hit and run.

Oscar was honestly surprised Ozpin let him have control in this fight. After he failed to stop America from being taken, how could Ozpin trust him with this? Perhaps it was guilt because his takeover may have cost them America. Or perhaps it was because they both sensed the end was near. Oscar could not say he was feeling himself weakening, but there was a definite strain in his chest, as if something inside him was being pulled too thin. When he was just a farm boy, he never thought he would spend his last moments fighting. He was trying not to think about it.

An Alpha's jaws filled his vision but Taiyang stabbed it through the head and threw it into the swarm. He punched another through an abandoned building and watched it crumble. Oscar had to gape. He knew Taiyang must be strong, but he did not expect  _this_. The Huntsman paused and put a hand to the radio in his ear. His features sharpened.

"I just got word from CFVY. The Grimm are spreading out to the occupied parts of the city. The Huntsmen are getting overwhelmed."

"We need to help..." Ruby went silent.

"We need to get to Alfred." Weiss said quietly.

"But we need to help the civilians." Jaune argued. "Alfred's health is connected to this city, right? If it's being attacked—"

Pyrrha shot a Creep before it could lunge for him. She lowered her weapon. "Salem's trying to distract us."

"Or she's trying to murder Alfred." Nora pointed out.

Penny's swords whirred and she blasted a Nevermore out of the sky. She watched it hit the ground and stormed ahead. "I am continuing to Alfred."

"So am I." Arthur said instantly yet his expression was too terse. "Salem can't kill Alfred so she must be trying to weaken him." He did not sound very confident in his claim.

"Just keep going to the tower." Lovino snapped like the words had been yanked out of him. "I'll go help civilians and stop Alfred from kicking it. My Semblance can stop lesser Grimm." Despite his claim, Oscar could see his hands trembling.

"I'll stay with you." Taiyang offered.

"So will I." Jett said. "There's animals out here I can spy with to see what's going on." He pretended not to see Lovino's relief.

"We'll go too." Cardin said. He raised his mace and struck a Beowolf into the air. "Look, I don't understand half of what is going on, and I don't think we'll be much help against whatever you're facing. Let us help the civilians. You guys keep going."

Oscar was rather surprised. Perhaps Cardin was not as bad as he appeared. Then again, he was the poster child of 'not what he seemed.' America was one of the few who did not care though. Even after Ozpin tried to kill him, he still looked at Oscar as Oscar…

_And I failed him._

Ozpin cringed.

"I'll help the civilians." too." Oscar decided. "I'm not as capable as you and I might just get in the way."

" _I won't hurt them."_  Ozpin whispered.

 _Maybe not_ , Oscar admitted.  _But they don't need you._

Ozpin's consciousness recoiled like he had been struck. Oscar winced but did not take the word back. Thinking back on the fight against Hazel and Ozpin's interference, Oscar could not say he trusted Ozpin to do the right thing. And looking at them all— Ozpin's former students and the nations— and the way they spent time not only facing the enemy, but glancing at him… Oscar knew he was right.

He could let Ozpin take control. He could let him use his body to fight Salem with everything he had. But it would not be enough. Ozpin died when facing  _Cinder._ He was so desperate for more power to face Cinder's boss that he tried to murder one of his allies. He would have caused Oscar's death if Hazel had not decided to knock him out instead of killing him. Call Oscar scared, or a coward, or selfish, but he did not want to throw his life away facing Salem. He did not want to be another needless sacrifice in this war. He did not want Ozpin anywhere near his friends during this fight. And he did not want the civilians to be sacrificed either.

He did not want to be Ozpin.

Ruby seemed to understand if her expression was any indication. She put a brief hand on his shoulder and hugged her dad. "Be safe."

They split up without another word. Ruby, Weiss, Arthur, Francis, Feliciano, Winter, and JNPR forged ahead while Oscar, Taiyang, Lovino, CRDL, and Jett turned back towards the city. A piercing shriek tore through the air and they looked up to see the Grimm Dragon circling Beacon. It ignored the humans below and continued dropping more and more Grimm.

Oscar ignored his instincts to turn around and kept on going. He was not meant to fight that Grimm, as much as he and maybe Ozpin wanted to. They were not strong enough. They did not have the power to bring down Salem. They never did before, and they did not now.

Oscar and Ozpin would leave Remnant's fate in the hands of those that did.

In the distance, something exploded, sending plumes of fire into the air.

XXXXXXX

An airship exploded as it hit a building and America shuddered, feeling the flames tear through his heart. A Nuckelavee tore into the Vale Police Station and he writhed as claws tore Vale's citizens apart. Roman was guarding the entrance to the Relic's chamber, waiting for Emerald to arrive. Meanwhile, Salem watched America in boredom, her anger slowly draining, and her lip curled in mild disgust, as if America was nothing more than a slug she was watching dry up in the sun.

America clenched his teeth to hold back a scream. He coughed and a splatter of blood bubbled onto his chin. It dripped down his cheek and he watched the pool around him grow with a distant fascination. He had always known something like this could happen, but he honestly did not expect it to be this painful.

Honestly, he thought he would gradually weaken before passing away rather peacefully in his bed. Or maybe a dagger to the heart would do him in. Instead he was laying helplessly in a pool of his own blood, waiting for a vital strike to end his suffering.

" _I'm sorry."_  Vale sobbed.  _"I'm so sorry."_

He felt her shift inside his mind, her presence settling gently in his mind like hot cocoa on a cold day. Occasionally America felt a burning sensation, but it faded too quickly for him to be certain it was real. America appreciated the apology, even though it was unnecessary and unneeded. Vale had no more say in this than he did. They had to live, because they could not die. They could not die, because if they died, it was over. Salem would rip Choice from his corpse. Literally.

America almost had to laugh. He didn't. He was too scared. Too scared to really think about what was happening to him, because what if one of his stray thoughts was seen as a "choice" so the Relic that may be keeping him alive did something terrible? Could the Relic even be used while it was inside him, or was his "choice" to protect it or die trying keeping it busy?

America did not know. England might know. He knew a lot about mystic stuff like this. If he were here, he'd scold America until his ears fell off for being dumb enough to not think about what he was saying when holding a magical artifact made by Gods. That was, if England did not hold him while he cried because Canada was—

_Don't think about him. I don't want to join him yet._

America thought about his friends instead. They must still be in the middle of the woods right now, right? It would be nice to think they were nearby but that was unlikely. They still had weeks of travel left. Would he see any of them again? He wanted—  _chose_  to, because he was going to make it through this. No other avenues were acceptable.

America's ribs broke. His flesh tore. His throat was clogged with blood. His heart stubbornly continued to beat.

Salem sighed. "This is taking too long. You want to live that badly, hm? Why, when living causes you such pain?"

_Love. Friendship. All that fluffy, cliché stuff you'll never understand._

"Spite." America rasped.

Salem almost looked amused. " _That_ , I understand. I too survived on spite for a while."

She watched in disinterest as another attack send America into a brief seizure. Only when his body stopped spasming and he could once-again breathe did she continue.

"In hindsight, I'm glad Atlas found your world. If she had not, Ozpin may have reincarnated in one of you Terrans and the war would continue."

America's legs felt cold. Was that numbness from physical or mental shock?

"You never planned to leave Earth alone." he realized. "From the m-moment you learned it existed, you planned to destroy it too."

It was not a question, but she answered regardless. "Yes."

America thought of Hazel. His bitter laugh caused blood to splatter down his chin. "Y-You told each of your henchmen a different lie, didn't you? So t-tell—" He gasped as something in his abdomen tore. "—me the real reason. Why do you really want the Relics?"

Salem considered him. Her eyes slid to Roman, who paced nervously by the doorway, then back to her victim. "I suppose we have time while you're laying there, dying. So let me tell you the truth." She leaned over and her icy breath brushed his ear. "When brought together, the Relics can change reality itself. Destruction to erase this world. Knowledge and Creation to build it anew. Choice to ensure  _no one_  will disturb the peace, or change it without my permission. Not that humanity will be around to ruin it anyway."

America bit back a whimper as Grimm attacked a shelter full of civilians. "There might be other worlds." he gasped defiantly. "Other humans—"

"If there are, I will still have the Relics. I will simply destroy them as well." Salem said dismissively. "All life that is not of my making shall be extinguished."

America clenched his teeth and glared at her. "You're pathetic. All that talk of grand plans and deities, but you're nothing more than an evil witch who wants to be God—"

Salem's arm jerked as if to grab him but she pulled back before she could touch him. Her teeth clenched and her furious gaze raked over his battered body, seeking any way she could make him pay for his hubris. Her incensed expression smoothed out.

"Roman, come here."

The criminal jumped and almost tripped over himself in his rush to get up the stairs. "Yes, boss?"

"Touch him." Salem commanded.

Roman paled. "Uh, boss? I'm not a religious guy but I'd rather not touch a Godly Relic that fries people it doesn't like—"

Salem's aura flared black. " **You will touch the Relic or I will show you what a God can do**."

Roman's skin was so white, his blue eyes so wide with fear, that America almost felt bad for him. Then he remembered what the man had done and that pity drained away. Roman could blame the world all he wanted, but it was his decisions that got him into this mess. The criminal raised a shaking hand and let it hover over America's body. His throat bobbed nervously

" _Burn."_  Vale snarled venomously.  _"_ _ **Burn**_ _, you selfish, back-stabbing_ _ **pawn**_ _—"_ Again she grunted, presence shifting in his mind. It was almost like she was trying to  _block_  something...

Roman took a shaky breath, like he was about to plunge into a dark ocean, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He laid a forefinger on America's side, on one of the golden leaves of the Relic.

Nothing happened.

America's heart sank.

" _Shit."_  Vale breathed.

Roman cautiously opened his eyes and looked down at his hand. He prodded America's side experimentally before laying his palm flat. The Relic did not force him away— or turn him into dust— and he laughed.

"Phew. It seems my charm works even on magical artifacts. Of course, someone as charming and handsome as myself—"

"Roman." He froze in place, chest going still as he held his breath, but Salem was smiling. Her red eyes pinned America and glinted. "How would you like to crack open the Relic's new Vault?"

The way the criminal pointed at himself might have been funny in any other circumstances. "Can I?" he breathed.

"I need him  _broken_  and  _dead_." Salem said dismissively. She retreated towards the edge of the steps and clasped her hands. "Do with him what you please."

Roman grinned. "If you don't mind, how about I get up close and  _personal_?"

Green light flickered and familiar dagger appeared next to America's head. Roman gaped at it, then his smile returned, slow and malicious as it stretched across his face. He picked up the cursed blade and turned to America.

On the ceiling, the glow that lit Vale's symbol faded away.

XXXXXXX

Emerald hunted Hazel through the Vault's maze. The man had done well holding off Salem and fighting her, as to be expected from one of Cinder's comrades. And yet he had betrayed those comrades at the drop of a hat. He got cold feet and betrayed Salem. He tried to thwart her so Cinder's dream could not come to pass. For that, he would pay.

Just like Matthew Williams. Emerald almost had to smirk as she peered around a corner, the Relic of Destruction in her hands. Matthew Williams was finally dead. Cinder had been avenged. The peace she felt upon his death was brief but potent, and she would cherish the moment for the rest of her life. Yet that peace had been swallowed once more by rage because Hazel decided to turn on Cinder and Salem. Now the desire to destroy was back. She had another target, another enemy, another source of hate to keep her going. She was almost grateful.

She turned a corner and halted in place with a scowl. Another dead end. Would it be too much to ask to kill that Oscar boy if she ran into Ozpin's latest host? It was only appropriate retaliation for creating such an aggravating path to the Relic of Choice. Emerald huffed and turned away from the plain green wall that blocked her path.

Something brushed her arm.

She jumped, raising her sword, and squinted at the shadows in confusion.

What was she doing here, anyway?

Where was Cinder?

Emerald halted in place, blinking in confusion—

The look remained etched on her face as her head fell to the floor.

Her body fell after it.

XXXXXXX

In a hospital bed on the small island of Patch, Sun Wukong's finger twitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now a story to break the mood: I was having trouble figuring out Prussia's Semblance so I asked my friend for ideas. My friend's immediate response was, and I quote: "Prussia needs a trollololo Semblance that lets him f*ck with people." (Love ya, E.)
> 
> See you next Friday.


	37. Red Bullseye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a bit early again because I'm not sure if I'll have time tomorrow (again).
> 
> WARNING: Dark chapter. Allusions to torture. Nothing too graphic.

Grimm were everywhere. They covered the streets, the buildings, and part of the sky, cloaking the City of Vale in writhing darkness. Yang slid beneath a Beowolf's pounce, shot a Beringel through the head, and grabbed a member of the White Fang before shooting them through a store window. The glass shattered and small, bug-like Grimm crawled out through the broken window like ants. Yang set them on fire and moved on, scouring the sea of black for a splash of red hair.

Instead she saw many colors as civilians fled the horde. Yang's steps had taken her further and further away from Beacon, out into the still-populated parts of Vale. While most fled the city in whatever vehicle they could find, a few civilians had taken up arms in the vein of household objects. Pans, knives, pitchforks, gardening tools, and what sounded like a chainsaw. They were more focused on getting others out than chasing the Grimm so Yang left them to it.

She propelled herself over a truck and landed on an Ursa fist-first. The Grimm exploded into a splatter of black gore and she shook its fading gunk from her hand. A Nevermore dove towards her but she shot it from the sky. Its body struck a building and plummeted into the streets below, landing on top of a car. A Beowolf snarled at her but a small stone hit it in the eye. It yelped and she took it down in a punch. She found her helper and was less surprised than she should be to find a young by with a slingshot.

As a shadow fell over him, Yang grabbed the boy and rolled under a truck. The Griffon landed on the vehicle with enough force that the windows shattered. The boy flinched in Yang's arm but remained quiet, clinging to her coat. Yang hushed him and gently unwound his fingers from the fabric.

"Watch this." she whispered and winked.

She rolled out. The Griffon only had time to blink at her before she fired into its open maw. Its body fell on the car and the alarm began blaring. Yang pulled the kid out from under the truck and took off at a run.

"Where are your parents?"

The kid shrugged. Yang punched a Creep and kicked a Beowolf's head off. The kid sat passively in her hold. He might be in shock and the closest hospital was on the other side of town. Before Yang could consider swearing in front of a child, he grasped her right arm, tracing the lines with his fingers.

"Your arm is a robot." he whispered.

"Sure is." Yang grunted, sending another Creep flying.

Ahead, a group of civilians were rushing to a van. The driver ushered them into the back before running to the left side. He spotted Yang and waved frantically at her.

"Hurry up!"

Yang gave the boy to an elderly woman, who murmured softly to him as she rocked him, and scanned the street. Among the swarm of writhing blackness and prowling Grimm, she did not spot any more people. None that were moving, anyway. She was about to tell the driver to leave when a high-pitched scream sent her running back down the street.

An Ursa crouched next to an overturned food stand, paw swiping under the twisted metal as a young voice shrieked. Yang landed on the Ursa's back and punched it in the back of its skull. The bone shattered under her fist and she shook it off as the Grimm crumpled beneath her. Yang crouched down to see a father and his daughter huddled under the cart, staring at her with wide eyes. There was no time for them to process they had been saved.

"There's an escape vehicle." Yang said. " _Go_."

The man grabbed his daughter and ran. The other civilians dragged them onto the van and it took off, tires squealing. Yang saw movement in the distance and blocked the shot that would have taken out one of the tires. A few childish shrieks sounded over the roar of the engines as a few of its younger occupants saw the shots hit the road around them.

Yang glared at the rifle wielding, bear-eared White Fang that dropped from the second story of one of the abandoned apartment buildings. The woman was unrepentant as she aimed at the van again, firing at it as it sped off.

Yang blocked each shot with her gauntlets, her anger mounting the longer she looked at that white-masked face. For a moment, she wondered if Blake knew this Faunus. Could this woman be one of Blake's old friends? Then Yang realized Blake would never be friends with someone who tried to murder  _children_.

Her vision turned red. " _Get_   _out of my way._ "

The White Fang's Aura vanished in a flash of red beneath her fist. Yang shoved by her crumpled form and took off. She kept heading through the chaotic city streets, slowly and unintentionally running towards Beacon. She spotted Coco mowing down swaths of Nevermore with her gun but did not stop to greet Team CFVY's leader. She saw Dove stabbing a Beowolf but did not ask how he got there. She passed Huntsmen, civilians, Grimm, and White Fang alike, searching only for red.

Green found her instead, blasting a Griffon before it could land on her back. The Grimm crumpled behind her and her assistant twirled his flamethrower to rest it on his shoulder.

"Ms. Xiao Long!" Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck greeted her rapidly. "It is good to see you out fighting again." His sharp eyes scanned the empty street around her and a frown played at his lips. "Where is your team?"

"Around." Yang said shortly.

Oobleck's gaze softened. "I ran into your father. He told me what happened to Ms. Belladonna. My condol—"

"Have you seen Adam?" Yang interrupted.

Oobleck looked at her over his glasses. "I have not seen the White Fang's leader. Peter and Glynda are around here somewhere organizing the evacuation effort. Perhaps—"

The hairs on Yang's arm prickled. Around them, the Grimm collapsed, with a few Nevermore and Griffons plummeting from the sky. Yang did not waste time questioning their fall. She raced through the street, killing all the fallen Grimm as she passed. She had just shot the last Griffon when a Beowolf stirred, snarling as it rose onto his paws. Its eyes rolled back and it crumpled, and a second later a shot went through its skull.

"Take that you _demons!_ " Lovino shouted, weapon rattling as his arm shook.

He fired and hit a Nevermore as it fell, but Yang had a feeling it was due to luck more than ability. She adjusted her assumption when he fired again and got a Griffon right in the eye, bringing it down. Lovino yelped as it hit the ground in front of him and slashed it with the edge of his shield, nearly decapitating the Grimm. Jett grabbed his arm before he could do it again, grin so wide it looked ready to split his face.

"See? I told you you could do it!"

Lovino shot him a look that somehow conveyed both anger and terror at the same time.

"Thank you for the assistance." Oobleck greeted them cordially, but Yang could see him looking them up and down, seeing everything from their weapons to the stability of their stances. "You aren't my students so I'm afraid we haven't met."

"I'm Alfred and Matthew's other brother." Jett said briefly.

Oobleck brightened. "You are? Oh, what an opportunity! If you have the time could you tell me what it was like living in the Wilds? I'm sure historians of the future would love to—"

"No offense, Prof, but this is  _not_  the time." Jett interjected quickly.

"It's Doctor." Oobleck corrected. "But you are correct." He raised his flamethrower and set a Beowolf alight. "Let me bring you up to speed. The Huntsmen are trying to clear a path for evacuations. However, I fear the Grimm's numbers are growing by the minute."

"There's an opening on the east side. You should tell them to focus there." Jett reported, eyes glowing green.

"How do you know, young man?" Oobleck asked.

Jett did not correct his assumption. "My Semblance lets me see through animals' eyes. There are a whole bunch of loose pets and birds around."

"Can you find Adam?" Yang demanded.

Jett hesitated. "Maybe."

Yang grabbed his hand and pulled him along. "Let's go."

"Don't leave me behind!" Lovino yelped and ran after them.

Oobleck watched them depart and faced the horde of Grimm, weapon in hand. He sighed. "Do not throw your life away, Ms. Xiao Long. The future is upon us, and I'd prefer you live to see it."

XXXXXXX

They had made it to the courtyard. As she spotted the broken Huntsmen statue just outside the school, Ruby could hardly believe it. It helped that Arthur, Weiss, and Winter indiscriminately blasted everything in their paths, clearing large swarms of Grimm or at least pushing them back.

Ruby dodged a Creep and nearly tripped over the Huntsman's fallen arm. It was crushed to dust under a Griffon's talons. Ruby shot the Grimm off the desecrated statue and looked ahead, breath catching in her throat.

Beacon tower was a mere shell of what it once was. The once proud Academy for Huntsmen was hollow and frail, left broken by the monsters it had been built to hold at bay. Most of the windows were shattered and the roof had more holes than an unfinished garden, yet stone stubbornly held onto its shape. Ruby could hear the wind whistling through the gaping cracks and holes. Seeing the skeleton that was once her school, she wondered if she touched it, would the whole building collapsed beneath her hand?

What would Blake think, if she were here to see what Beacon had become?

" _Down_!"

Francis grabbed Ruby and yanked her behind the base of the broken Huntsmen statue, crouching down and covering her red cloak with his body. The others ducked behind chunks of stone as a gigantic shadow passed over them.

The Grimm Dragon ignored the puny humans and glided until it landed on the tower. The Dragon clung to the side of the building and clambered up it. Chunks of glass and rubble rained down on the courtyard, leaving a layer of dust and debris. A large chunk of rock hit a Beowolf but the Dragon did not spare its dead kin a single thought. It settled on the tower with the ease of a creature used to its perch and released a thunderous roar.

"Oh, look. Tweety's back." Arthur growled.

Nora scowled and gripped her hammer, raising it.

Weiss grabbed the weapon and forced it down. "I don't think that can take it out."

"Then what  _can_?" Nora hissed. "Even if we get the twins and come out, that thing will be waiting for us. Best to take care of it now while we have time."

"Alfred and Matthew don't  _have_  time." Weiss insisted. "We just need to get inside. The Dragon can't follow us into the building."

"Feliciano, can you make us all intangible?" Francis asked.

The Italian's wide eyes never left the gigantic beast. He silently shook his head, visibly shaking.

"As soon as we move the Dragon's going to swoop." Nora predicted. "We need to fight it."

Weiss's teeth ground audibly. "We  _need_  to—"

"Enough arguing." Jaune interrupted sharply. "JNPR will distract the Dragon."

Ruby's gaze snapped to him. "What—  _No_. We're  _not_  separating."

Jaune did not look at her. He stared at the Grimm Dragon, watching as it settled atop the top with insolent apathy, as if Beacon tower was just another perch. "Nora's right. The Dragon needs to be taken care of or it'll just keep spawning Grimm. You get Alfred and Matthew out."

Pyrrha looked from the Grimm Dragon to him and nodded in agreement, adjusting her grip on her weapon. "We can do this."

Ruby's mouth went dry. "But—"

"I will assist them." Winter interrupted. She flicked her sword and glyphs appeared behind her. "Stop Salem."

Thousands of tiny white Nevermore swarmed the Grimm Dragon. It screeched and swatted at them, large eyes peering irritably down at the humans. Winter raised her sword as Jaune's white Aura surrounded her and slammed it into the ground. Ice spiked through the courtyard and up the tower, freezing the Dragon in place. Cracks instantly began forming across the glacier.

"Go." Winter commanded, and she and Team Juniper dove out of cover.

Even with all her reflexes, Ruby was the last to move as her own team followed across the courtyard. They slammed into the prowling Grimm and tore through them, ripping any apart that stood between them and their goal. JNPR and Winter fell back and Ruby glanced behind her, eyes locking with Jaune's. His stern gaze softened and he smiled at her, mouth moving in an inaudible promise.

" _See you later."_

Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, Ren, and Winter halted at the base of the tower.

Above them, the Grimm Dragon broke free of the ice and roared at the Huntsmen and Huntresses.

Ruby, Weiss, Arthur, Francis, Feliciano, and Penny had already passed through the broken door into Beacon.

XXXXXXX

Germany, Austria, Hungary, Russia, Finland, and Prussia sat silently in an airplane with an elite squad of American Marines, headed to the eastern coast of North Carolina. After hasty introductions— thank goodness this squad already knew about the existence of nations— the ride had passed with barely a word spoken between them.

The squad leader was none other than Agent Tarleton, who sat stiffly near the front, only moving to occasionally stare at his hands. A small net hooked to the wall of the aircraft rattled as the plane hit a bit of turbulence, but Germany ignored the sound in favor of Tarleton's ringing phone.

"Report." was Tarleton's greeting as he answered his phone. He listened a moment and eventually hung up, looking to the nations and his men.

"Target A is furthest away in the Rockies. Target B— our target— is by Maryland. Target C will hit DC in an hour." the American agent's gaze hardened. "We've got its location and Unit C's eta is twenty minutes." He glared at each of the soldiers and nations. "Remember why we're here. If the fighter jets do nothing, we might have to get these guys—" He nodded at the nations. "—up close and personal. Your duty is to mow down the lesser Grimm the Spawner creates and get the nations through. Don't be the reckless fool from the movies and think you can run up and stab the thing yourself. No stupid heroics, you hear me?"

A chorus of sharp "Yes sir"s rang throughout the hold. Germany saw one man grip his locket before tucking it back back into his uniform. The nation closed his eyes and silently exhaled, focusing on the mission ahead.

Unit C was Lithuania, Poland, Denmark, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein's group, the third unit out of the three to be accompanied by American forces. Germany hated splitting the Taskforce up but there was no other choice. Three Spawners were headed for America's capital, and although the B-team was on their way, they may not arrive in time. That left seventeen nations, the Marines, and America's other Armed Forces— mortal, Auraless, brave men and women— to stop the beasts, or at least hold them off until they figured out how to stop them. Germany remembered the harrowing fight with the Fox Spawner and internally shuddered.

"Has the president been evaced?" he asked.

"Him and most of the east coast." Tarleton's lips twisted into an unhappy smirk. "There's a Category 5 Hurricane Salem coming through. It's going to affect the whole region."

Germany almost had to shake his head at the name. Americans had the oddest sense of humor, even in the bleakest of times. "Do you think people will fall for that?"

"If they don't, they likely won't be alive to share." the agent said grimly.

"That won't stop them." Finland said quietly.

Thinking of the technology available today, Germany had to agree. The world is going to change after this fight. He was not sure he was ready.

But at least the nations' identities would be safe if they were seen. Tarleton had given each of them masks that covered most of their faces, hiding them.

 _If America were here he'd make a comment about superheroes,_  Germany mused.  _But we're not superheroes. Besides, these masks cover our whole faces, while those domino masks would do nothing to hide their identities…_  He paused and hid a grimace, which was rather redundant since he was wearing a mask.  _At least we don't have codenames._

Austria abruptly sat up, looking out the window. "Why are we not landing?"

Germany followed his gaze and saw they had passed over the coastline and over the water.

"Relax." Tarleton said dryly. "We're going over the Chesapeake to southern Maryland. The Spawner Grimm should pop up there."

"Pop up…?" Austria said faintly. His skin blanched. "It's a  _sea creature?_ "

"Weren't you listening?" Prussia asked scathingly. " _Yes_ , it is a sea creature. Specifically it's a..."

He trailed off, jaw dropping as he gaped out the window. Germany followed his gaze, heart beating slightly faster as he looked down at the water. Below them, the waves rippled, and gigantic black tentacles stretched up from the depths, followed by humongous red eyes. A few planes flew around it, firing rapidly, but the tentacles flicked them from the sky, sending the burning wreckage crashing into the ocean. Rather than feel terror at the sight, Germany was dully  _not_  surprised.

"Of course it's a Kraken."

XXXXXXX

America lay on his back on the floor beside the altar in the Relic of Choice's chamber. His glazed gaze stubbornly followed the lines of the architecture and not on the movement he would see if he looked down. His right leg was spread out to the side, the fibula messily snapped and positioned at a purposely unnatural angle, while his left was bent at the knee with knives through his foot. His right arm was also pinned, while his left was free and allowed to feebly try to push Roman off of him. It was useless. The criminal may as well weigh a thousand tons for all America could move him.

Roman had— knowingly or unknowingly— taken a page from the ex-soldier's book and decided America's personal space was no consequence. In fact, space between them was nonexistent ever since Salem let Roman loose. If the criminal was not laying on top of America with his face mere inches from his victim's, he was mockingly leaning against America's bent leg and using his victim's knee as an arm rest as he carved pictures and slurs into America's chest, stomach, and thighs. No amount of feeble shoving could push Roman away. His attempts had only made the criminal laugh so America soon gave up, letting his hand fall limply to the ground.

Vale went silent long ago, and America did not blame her for retreating into the depths of his mind to escape reality. Almost every inch of his skin— that was not covered in cuts or bruises—had small cigar burns to fill in the untouched space. A new, sharp pain from icy metal joined the mass of ignited nerves that was his body and he shut his eyes. Tears gathered in his eyelashes and he muffled a pained gasp with his free hand. Roman finished cutting and pulled back, admiring America like his bloodied and broken body was an exquisite piece of art.

"That was a lot of work but damn it felt  _good_." he sighed, voice slightly breathless. "I thought blowing up those airships was fun but  _this_. Even when you choking on your blood and can barely move, you're so durable. Anyone else would be dead right now but you decided to stick around just to entertain little old me. Thanks,  _buddy_. I almost love you for your unwillingness to die right yet." He smirked. "It lets me finally be free to do as I please. I don't even have to worry about killing you too quickly or  _any_  damage I cause."

A hand caressed America's face, deceptively gentle, and he closed his eyes again. He felt Roman's body shift and felt sharp metal touch his skin but kept his eyes shut, even as the man's returned weight made his body scream with pain. Smoke-scented breath tickled his cheek.

"Though I admit I'm a little disappointed." Roman whispered in his ear. "You didn't even scream for me. Couldn't you at least struggle a little bit? Or even wiggle. Just a little something to let me know you feel my knife. You don't even tense up around my blade anymore. It's not as fun when you lay there like you're already a corpse. And I'm  _still_ waiting for some begging. Come on, aren't you all about making dreams come true?" When America failed to move he grabbed his chin. "Oi, I'm talking to you."

America remained limp and unresponsive. In his mind's eye, he saw people fleeing from swarms of Grimm. Was that Vale or Washington DC? He could not tell. Their terror and grief were lances of pain through his heart, and when Roman snapped his left wrist and shattered his hand he barely felt it. The criminal huffed and let his broken arm fall back to the floor. He idly stabbed America in the side, adding yet another wound to the countless ones there, and yanked the sacrificial dagger back out. America did not react.

Roman grumbled in discontent. He briefly brushed the golden leaves of the Relic— even with all the puncture wounds and blood, they still were unblemished on America's skin— before his fingers slid around and traveled down America's back, ruthlessly jabbing every burn and stab-wound as they went. America felt Roman's fingers trail along his spine, leaving fire in their wake. His consciousness mercifully wavered and he had a moment to hope he was falling unconscious. He rejected that desire and his senses came back too quickly as Roman jabbed him in the thigh with his cigar. Roman hummed and tapped America's abdomen with the burning cigar, ignoring how he flinched.

"I  _almost_  got you whimpering." Roman mused out loud. "That's not good enough. So maybe I should switch things up a bit and try to leave my mark. Maybe leave a little something in..." He waved a finger vaguely in the air before laying it down. "... _here_." He traced circles on America's lower torso, right above the Relic's curve. Everywhere he touched him, he left burns and cuts behind. "I want to give you something for you to remember me by. Like you remember your artistic friend. I'm not as creative as him, so I'm not sure my messages would stick to your skin. If I left my cane stabbed in you, would you heal around it and keep on breathing or no?"

America could not respond even if he wanted to. Roman had already slashed his throat— though not as deeply as Emerald had to Canada— and he was pretty sure the sacrificial dagger had hit a lung, just missing his heart. His best guess as to why he was not dead was either the Relic of Choice was keeping him alive or his connection with his own nation was frantically working to keep him breathing as Vale's weakness tried to pull him into the afterlife. Possibly both. Either way, it left him in a strange state of limbo, unable to heal, but not yet able to die.

_Like Mattie._

America forced himself not to think about Canada. He could not risk his desire to pass on like his twin being seen as another "choice." He was in pain, and he would die soon, but  _not yet_. He wanted to  _live_ , because dying would bring everyone else down with him.

"Not that you're going to live much longer anyway." Roman added. "I admire your fortitude, but this is too much. I slit your  _throat_. I stabbed you in the chest so many times I've lost count. I have reverently explored every inch of your body, and most of it is broken and bloody. I'd give you some scars like mine— maybe around the eyes and in that big mouth of yours— but you still haven't begged yet and I think I want your friends to recognize your pretty face." He paused mock-thoughtfully. "Oh,  _wait_. They'll be dead before they find you."

America opened his eyes and stared past Roman. They snapped shut as Roman moved— piercing and icy and sharp and  _stop stop stop stop_ _ **stop**_ — and the tears slipped silently down his temples.

"Aww, did I scare you?" Roman crooned. "Here, let me make you feel better."

America braced himself and muffled a scream, biting through his lip. He did not let himself think about the pain or Roman. He did not allow himself to comprehend his situation and begin to desire death to escape it. A particularly bad attack— a King Taijitu had forced its way into a hospital— made him lurch in agony.

Roman laughed ecstatically. "Now  _that's_  what I'm talking about. Keep on writhing, Blue."

 _I want to live_ , America chanted, breath hitching as his body jerked in pain.  _I want to live. I want to live..._

A particularly sharp pain ripped up his spine and his legs went mercifully— but too briefly—numb. Eventually Roman got off of him and stood up, leaving America trembling on the floor. There was no part of him left unhurt. Instead of cells, his body was made up of varying degrees of pain. When he tried and failed to curl in on himself he barely noticed the shocks of pain from his broken leg as he moved it. Roman idly watched him struggle as he pulled on his coat. He adjusted the sleeves, then studied the red stains on them critically. He shrugged.

"I took this off and still managed to get it dirty. That's the price for being up close and friendly with a bleeder, I guess." He looked to Salem. "I broke into the Vault but I just couldn't reach your Relic. Sorry, boss. I did my best."

"You did." Salem agreed. She glided over from where she had been watching the whole ordeal and glared coldly down at America. "Even after all that, you kept your desire to live. How… admirably irritating." She crouched next to him, not touching him, and her hand hovered over the Relic of Choice's leaves. "Perhaps, deep down, you enjoyed this encounter. Maybe you think you deserve it. After all, if you  _truly_  wanted Roman to stop, why did you not decide you wanted him to die?"

America's breath hitched. In his mind, Vale stirred.

Roman chuckled nervously. "Let's not give him any ideas, boss."

Salem said nothing. She rose to her feet and loomed over America. "You are going to die, Vale. You are already dead. What you have now is a shadow of life, because if not for the Relic inside you, you would have stopped breathing hours ago." She leaned forward, malicious and remorseless. "So  _give up_ , or I do believe Roman is willing to find more places to impale you."

"You bet I am." Roman said, knives in hand and teeth bared in a wide grin.

" _She's right."_  Vale whispered, voice slurred and shaky like she was also in pain.  _"We're not going to make it at this rate. My capital is under attack. It's in ruins. If we didn't have the Relic we'd be dead. If I didn't have_ _you_   _I'd_ _be long dead..."_

A Nevermore flew through a building. The structure crumbled in on itself. Blood bubbled at America's mouth and his eyes fluttered, slowly shutting. He distantly heard Vale at the back of his mind, but it was almost like she was talking to him through water. Her words were distant and muffled.

" _This is my fault. It's all my—_ _ **No.**_ _It's Salem's fault. And Cinder's. And Atlas's. Not mine, or yours. Never yours. You weren't meant to be a part of this. You were taken from your world and drafted to be Remnant's savior. I can't undo that. I can't stop that. But I_ _ **can**_ _stop you from falling with me."_

A part of America tried to clamber back to consciousness, screaming at him as it realized what was going on, but Vale's capital building had been overrun by the Grimm, and he could feel himself fading. A bubble of panic broke through the distant haze and his chest heaved.

 _Vale,_  he thought weakly, barely able to coherently form the words.  _I don't want to die._

" _I know. That's why I— That's why I have to—"_ Vale paused.  _"...I'm sorry, America."_ She took a shuddering breath, but when she spoke, there was no hesitation in her voice.

" _Relic, I choose to die in order to sever my Kingdom's connection with America. I choose to use my remaining energy to supplant America's Aura."_

The Relic of Choice glowed.

America screamed in agony as his insides turned to ash. The heat from the Relic pulsed outward through his every cell and seared his skin, leaving him paralyzed but conscious as he burned. The pain was so great he  _forgot_. He forgot his name, his family, his friends and enemies. He forgot  _himself_. Instead his world was  **pain** , and pain was his whole world as the boiling crept back from his extremities and tore through his mind and soul, slipping into the cracks and wrenching it in two.

And then it stopped.

The painful power was still there. It still ripped through his soul. Except it was not  _his_  soul. At least, the piece that was cut out of him like an organ was not. Not anymore.

The shadows of the Relic's chamber deepened. America's vision wavered, glazing over, and he saw Vale. She stood elegantly in an expanse of golden light, brown hair neatly in place and skin kissed by the sun. Her brown eyes were warm as they locked with his, and she smiled, proud and almost joyful but with an undeniable hint of sorrow.

" _Thank you for being my friend, America."_

And then she was gone.

The golden light faded, and he was back in the chamber.

America's left arm twitched. His unbroken hand quivered, and balled into a fist. Slowly, he reached up and touched his chest, placing his hand over his steadily beating heart. A heart that no longer ached. In fact, only small parts of him stung as blue Aura with just hint of green flared over his skin. He watched it flicker over his hands and the green slowly disappeared. Panicked, he cast his mind out, seeking the source of the green.

_Vale?_

Silence.

_Vale?!_

Complete silence.

_...Amber?_

Absolute, unbroken silence.

Not of an annoyed head roommate who was giving him the cold shoulder. Not of a grumpy friend who was not in the mood to talk at the moment. But the silence of a mind that held only his own thoughts and soul. There was no one else in there. Not anymore.

America could still feel a distant connection with his people, but it was much too far to be a bond with anyone on Remnant. He was connected with his people.  _Only_  his people. Only  _his_  people, and no longer hers. Because—

Because...

_Vale is dead._

_Just like Mattie._

_I'm_ _ **alone**_.

America heard a groan to his left. Roman staggered back to his feet, hair windswept and jaw stiff with pain.

"That was a blast. Literally." he panted. He looked at America and did a double-take. "Why is Blue's left eye blue again?"

America _howled_  in grief, and the chamber filled with blue lightning and flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally called this chapter "Seeing Red" but then canon did that so I changed the title, haha.
> 
> I edited this chapter a lot. I kept going back through that last section to tweak it. It was pretty hard finding a balance between "not too vague" and "not too descriptive". I think I got it. If any part was too vague, fill the blanks in with whatever tortures your mind can come up with I guess.
> 
> ...I'm going to regret saying that, aren't I? Some of the things you guys come up with scares me, haha.
> 
> Still having the word switch/vanish problem. Whyyyyyyy? If you see any missing or out of place words, please tell me and I will fix it.


	38. Empty

Lithuania slammed into the hood of a car and the metal frame crumpled under his body. The alarm wailed as the lights flicked on and off but he ignored it, pushing himself up out of the dent with a wince. He rolled aside and a giant paw landed on the car, crushing it completely.

The paw lifted to reveal the thin metal pancake the vehicle had become. Lithuania had no time to ponder the grisly fate he had scarcely avoided. He fired into the swarm of Grimm prowling through the streets and clapped a hand to his communicator.

"I need backup!"

" _Join the club."_  Denmark grunted.  _"This thing is_ _ **huge**_ _! What's near you? I have the right hind paw."_

Lithuania grimaced at the paw as it rose above him, leaving drops of black ooze in its wake. "I have the left front paw. We need air support."

_"Are you sure your name isn't Captain Obvious?_ " Switzerland snapped.  _"I have the right front paw."_

Lithuania heard the sound of gunfire through the comm but did not bother to reply. He refrained from shooting at the gigantic Cerberus Spawner above him, knowing his shots would hardly be felt by the beast.

The Cerberus was much larger than the Fox. In fact, it made the previous Spawner Grimm look like a baby by comparison. The monster loomed over the buildings it tore through like a mountain, hulking and dark with matted black fur and bulking muscles under its rippling hide. Each of its three heads was grotesque and feral, red eyes glinting with cruel intelligence and lips pulled back to reveal teeth almost as long as two grown men standing on top of each other.

If it decided to stoop down and eat one of the humans that kept up with it on foot or in military vehicles, Lithuania doubted it would even notice it had swallowed them. Unlike the Fox, ooze dripped from the Cerberus's fur, like its entire body was made from ink. It would be more accurate to say there was a river in its wake than puddles, every single one spawning Grimm.

If the Grimm were not so dedicated to staying with their originator, Lithuania might despair. The monster was too big for their team to handle. They could only track it, stay with it, and try to pick off the smaller Grimm it spawned until help arrived. Specifically tanks and the heavy artillery.

Fortunately, the Grimm did not seem to care about killing the tiny humans running around it.

Unfortunately, it and its brethren were intent on reaching their target: Washington DC.

Lithuania ran beneath the Cerberus, shooting smaller Grimm as he went. Beowolves, Boarbatusks, Deathstalkers, and Ursa all fell before him, but the horde hardly seemed to care. Like the lesser Grimm it likely controlled, all three heads of the Spawner ignored Lithuania. The nations and the men they brought did not matter, only their goal.

Lithuania gritted his teeth and stayed under the Cerberus's dripping belly, searching for a weakness. All he could see was white armor and black ooze. Lithuania was not one to curse much, but he could not deny the desire to now. He hoped the other teams were faring better.

XXXXXXX

" _FIRE!_ "

China cringed as the soldiers around him fired into the blackened sky. Japan, Spain, Romania, Sweden, and Korea fired as well, but their bullets proved as ineffective as the soldiers. It was not until China raised his weapon and fired an artificially-created Fire Dust bullet at the beast that the Spawner finally took note of the humans on the ground.

As an ancient nation, China had been exposed to many strange things during his years on this world. He had heard of myths and legends, folk tales and stories, both from his country and others as well. He admitted he was a superstitious nation more willing to wonder about the mythical than some, and so he tried to learn as much as he could about certain cryptids. Not only out of curiosity, but possible preservation. As such, as soon as his eyes fell upon the Spawner Grimm his unit sought, he could not help but wonder if some of those myths were more fact than fiction.

The Ulama— commonly known as the "Devil Bird"— may be a disproven myth on Earth, but on Remnant something comparable to it appeared to be very real.

The owl-like Spawner Grimm was larger than a commercial airline plane. In fact, a plane like that could land comfortably on one of its wings and have some room to slow to a stop. The giant beast blocked out the sky with its enormous wingspan, covering the lonely field they had caught up to it in in shadows, and China had to wonder where it managed to hide until now.

There was no time to ponder the possibilities as the bird twisted in the air and hovered over the humans. It studied them with its monochrome red eyes and opened it's sharp beak wide as it gave a bloodcurdling shriek.

The air rippled from the Ulama's scream and China's legs buckled. Around him, men and women slumped to the ground, weapons clattering from their hands as their limbs went limp. China lurched to the closest man and felt his neck. A steady beat pulsed under his fingers and he released a shaky breath. He put a hand to his ear.

"This is Yao. Target can knock people unconscious with its scream. I repeat,  _target can knock people unconscious with its scream_."

The agent on the other end cursed and shouted to someone else. "Send backup with upgraded ear protection. Yao, can you get them out of there?"

China grimaced at the dozens of unconscious soldiers and looked up at the Ulama. It flapped its wings, hovering in place, and its red gaze locked with his. Seeing the intelligence there, he had the feeling he'd been recognized despite the mask he wore. Confirming his suspicions, the Ulama hissed. China was not surprised. He already knew that Salem was— as they say— a 'sore loser'. He twirled his tonfas and flicked them down at his sides, clicking new cartridges of ammunition into place.

"It may be wiser if I serve as a distraction." he said calmly.

Japan's gaze snapped to him. "You can't—"

China was already moving, firing at the Ulama. His bullets— courtesy of Tony— set its feathers alight and it shrieked in annoyance. China stumbled but kept running through the open field, heading away from the soldiers and towards the slightly-better shelter the forest provided. Behind him, he heard the hisses and snarls of Grimm as they emerged from black pools of ooze. Human footsteps caught up to him and he glowered at Japan.

"Help the soldiers."

Japan shook his head. "I'm not leaving you alone."

China did not have time to retort before a shadow fell over Japan. He yanked the nation aside and the Griffon's open jaws snapped shut on air instead of Japan. China shot it but when it fell, ten more Grimm took its place. As Sweden and Romania struggled to get the unconscious soldiers into a truck and Korea shouted for China, China's back slammed into Japan's.

Around them, the green field filled to the brim with a sea of living darkness.

XXXXXXX

Oscar was not ashamed to admit that he had intended to stay close to Taiyang. He was not the most tactical person, but sticking with a professional Huntsman in this situation was a sound idea. Too bad when Team CRDL ran off on their own, Oscar unwittingly followed and lost Taiyang in the swarm of civilians, Huntsmen, and Grimm.

A Nevermore passed over him with something large in its talons and he jumped under an overhang. A King Taijitu landed in the street, half its body over the awning Oscar crouched beneath. The thin metal that held the thin awning up creaked ominously under the weight of the Grimm and Oscar ducked into the doorway.

The awning snapped and the King Taijitu's gigantic body fell in front of the doorway, covering it with its black, scaly hide. The scales slid sideways and a glowing red eye peered through the doorway. Oscar stabbed it directly through its slitted pupil. The Grimm jerked back with a pained howl and Oscar dashed into the open.

Team CRDL had engaged the King Taijitu's white head. It grabbed Cardin's mace and ripped it from his hand. Glancing back at its unmoving black head, it threw the mace off into the distance. Dove beheaded the beast a second later. There was no time to celebrate.

The Nevermore passed over again and Cardin backed up nervously, weaponless and face white. The Nevermore flapped its wings and blade-like feathers rained down on them. Oscar stepped in front of Cardin and blocked the fletchettes with his cane. They impaled the road around them. The Nevermore screeched in anger and dove. Oscar flicked the cane into a horizontal position and fired, hitting the Nevermore between the eyes. It slammed into the roof of the building and went limp.

"Nice shot." Russel complimented.

Oscar looked to Cardin. "Are you okay?"

Cardin nodded mutely. His breathing was harsh, and his eyes were oddly glazed. Before Oscar could ask him if he was sure, Cardin glanced past him and his jaw went slack. Oscar whirled to see a horde of Grimm prowling towards them. There had to be hundreds.  _Thousands_. Oscar raised his cane but his fingers felt cold. It was not fear for himself that chilled him, but for the people fighting or running from the Grimm.

_We're going to lose the city…_ Oscar shook those pessimistic thoughts away and turned to Ozpin.  _Any advice?_

It took a second for Ozpin to respond.  _"I need to keep my distance."_

_What?_

A familiar chill gripped Oscar's soul and his breathing caught in his chest like a lump of ice.

Ozpin's gasp was low and sharp.  _"I'll hold it off as long as I can. I'm sorry."_

He hastily retreated from Oscar's mind as much as he could. The realization of what was happening was there, but Oscar had no time to think about it.

Glass shattered as a Beringel smashed through a window and climbed inside. Screams tore through the air but before Oscar could move, they cut off. The Beringel exited the building through the same window and landed in the street. Red eyes landed on the weaponless teen and he backed up, empty hands raised.

Oscar blinked and the Beringel was upon Cardin. Large claws tore through armor and flesh, and Cardin Winchester fell in a spray of blood.

" _Cardin!_ " Russel screamed.

He beheaded the Beringel and shoved its body away from his leader. He rolled Cardin onto his back, revealing the gashes on his chest, and Oscar had to look away so he did not see a black-haired girl in his place. Dove stared blankly at his teammate as he tried and failed to resuscitate their leader, and his sword trembled before its tip lowered towards the ground.

"We can't win." he whispered.

Dove's arm went limp at his side and a Griffon swallowed him whole.

XXXXXXX

If the outside of Beacon looked desolate, the inside looked worse. Ruby's steps crunched on stone and glass as she hurried past the destroyed entrance to Beacon, stepping over part of the doorway that had collapsed into broken stone. The entire entrance hall— once one and whole— was now a field of shattered glass, with spiderweb-like cracks scarring the walls, floor, and ceiling.

Beacon looked less like her school and more like the ruins out in the woods. Damaged, broken, abandoned. Never able to be fixed. As she passed over the broken marble floor, tears dripped from Ruby's eye. A feeling of emptiness tore through her and she repressed a sob. Weiss halted beside her and touched her arm, eyes widening as the dripping tears became a steady stream.

"Ruby? What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Ruby choked. "Something's  _gone_." She reached up and pressed a hand to her chest. "I feel…  _empty_."

Visible in the dull light from outside, Arthur's face drained of color. He ran to the elevator and shoved the doors. It creaked lowly until France came to help and the metal shifted aside, revealing an empty shaft. Arthur jumped down the shaft and vanished into the darkness, leaving the rest of them to follow. Ruby shoved the emptiness away—  _Focus on the mission the mission the mission._ — and fell unflinchingly. She used Crescent Rose to slow her ascent, leaving a trail of sparking metal in her wake. She landed and emerged from the shaft with Crescent Rose deployed.

The Vault stretched ominously in front of her, lit only by the light from Arthur's staff. Weiss flicked her weapon but the flames failed to light the torches lined along the walls. Ruby glanced at the countless halls that went off to the side and bit her lip.

"Which way do we go?"

"I believe we should proceed past the Aura Transfer machine." Penny said. "Based on previously acquired data, the Relic of Choice's Vault should be near there."

She did not explain herself further before she ran down the hall, feet clacking on the marble floor. Ruby followed and glanced at the shadows warily, but no red eyes gleamed from the darkness. An uneasy feeling replaced the lingering emptiness in her chest and she struggled to hold back tears. What was wrong with her?

A soft glow caught her eye and she halted next to Penny, blanching when she saw what had caught the robotic girl's attention. In front of them were two pods— the Aura transfer machine. In one of them lay a skeleton. Ruby forced both her gaze and mind away from its presence— and how it could already be just a skeleton— and glanced around. She spotted something glinting on the floor and ran to them, scooping up a familiar pair of glasses. They were  _Matthew's_.

"This way!"

Arthur grabbed the glasses from her, glancing at them briefly. He took off at a run down the hall, Penny and Francis at his sides. A green-tinged glow pierced the darkness and Ruby spotted the wide-open doorway to Vale's Vault. Despite her expectations of such an outcome, her skin still felt cold. It felt even colder when she noticed a large stain on the floor.

Outside the doorway was a huge puddle of blood. For a moment, Ruby's mind refused to comprehend that it was indeed blood, because no one could lose that much and survive. Arthur barely spared the puddle a glance as he passed through the open doorway. He immediately halted with a curse.

"That  _bastard_. Ozpin could have mentioned there was a  _maze_."

Ruby entered the doorway as well and saw Arthur was right. Three paths were in front of them, one heading left, another right, and one forward. Looking down the forward path, Ruby could already spot four separate ones ahead.

"I cannot believe he did not tell us how to get through." Arthur ranted.

"It might not have helped. He might not know the way. Look." Francis pointed at the scuff marks and gouges on the floor. "The maze can change."

Feliciano shot the walls a nervous look. "Hopefully it doesn't change while we're in here."

"In which direction shall we proceed?" Penny interrupted.

Arthur hesitated.

Francis did not. "Left."

They ran down the left path, passing between tall green walls that reminded Ruby of gigantic, unnatural hedges. She heard a soft humming sound and thought she saw a slight glow coming from the walls.

Arthur briefly glanced her way. "Don't touch the walls. There's a spell on them. It likely won't be friendly."

Ruby gulped and quickened her steps to run next to Arthur. "Arthur, do you have anything to beat Salem?"

He hesitated a beat too long. "I might have something to contain her until we have a more permanent solution. However, casting the sealing ritual will be difficult."

"What about that sleeping spell?" Weiss asked.

"It  _could_  fell her long enough for me to seal her…" He did not sound very confident about that but he shook himself. "Ruby, I need your talisman."

Ruby blanched, gripping the talisman at her throat. "What? You're going to seal Salem in  _this_?"

Arthur grimaced. "It is not ideal, but it is all we have."

Ruby reluctantly set the talisman into his waiting palm.

A Boarbatusk lunged from the shadows and tried to stab her in the throat. She bashed the Grimm into the wall and it disintegrated on impact with a high-pitched squeal. She looked into the shadows and dozens of red eyes stared back.

"There are Grimm in here." Ruby said.

"Oh,  _are there_?" Arthur snapped sarcastically.

He blasted the corridor, illuminating the space with crimson light, and the Grimm howled, fading into smoke. More immediately took their place, filling every corridor except the way back.

Arthur raised his staff as Weiss raised Myrtenaster, and the magical light was caught in her glyph. It rippled, glowing red, and exploded outward like a laser beam, tearing a path through the Grimm. Ruby did not need to be ordered to run, nor did she ask which way they were going. They could only move, and hope they got somewhere without reaching a dead end.

She kept pace with Francis as she heard Penny's swords lock into their shield form behind her, accompanied by the rattle of projectiles striking metal. A particularly loud thud made Ruby look back to see a Boarbatusk's tusks had pierced the shield of swords. Penny stabbed the Grimm with one of her detached swords and it turned to smoke.

Francis gasped and skidded to a halt and Ruby nearly ran into him. She looked past him to see they had reached three new paths. Each one was filled to the brim with darkness and red eyes. But they were not the only monsters there.

Mercury Black stood casually at the crossroads in the maze, stance unbothered despite the Grimm that surrounded him. He looked perfectly at ease, without a hint of remorse or uncertainty, and Ruby could only think of what he had done to Alfred. Her lip curled but she exhaled hastily, reminding herself there was no talisman around her neck anymore. Something must have shown on her face because Mercury took one look at her and laughed.

"Surprised to see me down here?" He crossed his arms and cocked his head arrogantly, completely unconcerned with who he faced. Surrounded by so many Grimm as he was, Ruby could see why he was cocky. "Watts and I were outside but we decided it would be better to stand guard in here. I think that was a good  _choice_."

Mercury smirked mockingly at them, and Ruby's breath caught in her throat. Was he implying Salem had the Relic of Choice already? Or was there some other horrible thing— that likely spelled misfortune for Alfred and Matthew— that he was implying? Unlike her, Arthur was unimpressed. He stared stonily at the boy who stood between him and his brothers, and Ruby saw his fingers tighten around his staff.

Violet light pulsed from his skin, passing harmlessly over his allies and striking only Mercury. He staggered in place, clutching at his chest like he was having a heart attack. The proud assassin fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders wracked with sobs.

"W-What is this?" he whimpered. "What did you  _do_  to me?!"

Arthur did not spare him an explanation. He brushed past Mercury and the Grimm around them— who were not so interested in Salem's enemies anymore. Ruby forced herself to follow and not look back as the Grimm closed in, even as Mercury shrieked. They raced around a corner and chose the path on the right. Behind them, Mercury's screams cut off.

"One enemy has been terminated." Penny murmured. "Adam Taurus is above. Remaining known enemies that may be in the area: Arthur Watts, Hazel Rainart, Emerald Sustrai, Roman Torchwick, and Salem."

Ruby could not muster a response. She heard approaching footsteps and they raised their weapons, ready for anything. Out of the sixth path that branched off to the right stepped a single figure, unaccompanied by Grimm. They stood waiting patiently at the end of the corridor for them, and the first thing Ruby noticed was their skin was white and vein-covered like Salem's.

It was not Salem.

It was not Watts that stood waiting for them.

It was not Hazel, or Adam, or Emerald, or even Roman.

Instead a tall, familiar blond-haired figure blocked their path.

"Matthieu?" Francis whispered.

Ruby barely recognized the twin. His skin was as white as snow, covered in red-tinged black veins that spread out from his chest like spider webs. His eyes looked more like Yang's at her angriest than his own— the red barely tinted with the smallest hint of violet. His pupils were thin and slit-like, like a snake's. Only his blond hair was unchanged, but even it was stained red with blood. Yet what caught Ruby's gaze was the thick line of black across his throat, reminding her of a shadow-like scar.

Matthew did not respond to Francis's horrified whisper. He did not appear to even hear it. Instead he stared unblinkingly at the group with the disinterest of someone faced with a group of strangers. His right arm bobbed slightly, and Ruby noticed he had a long, golden sword in his hand.

Seeing it, Ruby immediately knew it was the Relic of Destruction. The fact that Salem no longer had all of the Relics was the last thing on her mind— Or  _didn't_  she, because Matthew did not look right and wasn't acting right and was just standing there,  _staring_  at them—

Francis gave a low, sorrowful sound and stepped forward, hands outstretched. "Oh, Matthieu. What did they do to you?"

Ruby blinked, and Matthew's fist slammed into Francis's stomach. Francis's mouth opened in a breathless scream as his deep blue Aura vanished in a flash. His legs buckled and he crumpled limply to the ground.

Matthew twisted and grabbed Arthur's staff, yanking it aside so the red light gathering at its tip struck the wall, and headbutted his brother with an audible  _crack_. Again, Aura flared— but did not break— and Matthew grabbed Arthur's head, smashing it into the wall. Energy flashed, rippling over Arthur's frame, and his green eyes rolled back as his body lurched like he was being electrocuted. Matthew released him and he fell as well—

And suddenly Matthew was directly in front of Ruby.

She gasped, flinching back, and Matthew's fist struck a familiar glyph, shattering it but failing to reach her. Matthew shook his hand slightly and tipped his head, glancing sidelong at Weiss. His lips twitched and twisted into a snarl. He dodged Penny's swords— which sprang for him but hit the ground instead of stabbing his limbs— and flipped with surprising deftness, landing lightly in a crouch. Ruby noticed his hands never even twitched towards the Relic of Destruction.

If Weiss noticed the same, she gave no sign. She gripped Myrtenaster and pointed it at Matthew.

"Matthew, snap out of this at once." she commanded.

Seeing no reaction from Matthew, Ruby tried to reach him as well.

"It's us." she called, and unnatural red eyes snapped to her. She shoved away the slither of unease that tried to claim her breath and smiled, reaching out to him with her palm turned slightly up, showing there was no weapon in her hand. "It's your friends."

For a moment, Ruby thought he heard her. Matthew stood still, red eyes flicking to each of them, and he slowly rose from his crouch. Even his posture was wrong. Rather than firm but slightly hesitant, like he was prepared to fall back so no one would get hurt if they walked into him, Matthew's stance was tense and aggressive, like a predator preparing to pounce. His head tipped as he studied Ruby and his nostrils flared. His noticeably dry and cracked lips moved.

" ** _P̶̳͗r̴͉̍o̶̼̕ṱ̴̓ẻ̸̻c̷̙̀ẗ̷̟́.̴͍̀ ̸͍͒Y̴̆͜o̵̟̒u̵̡͝.̷̧́_** "

Ruby could barely decipher the words among the guttural growl that defiled Matthew's soft voice. Matthew vanished and appeared in front of her, too quickly for even her to react, and he slammed her head into the wall. A shock of electricity-like pain jolted through her and although her Aura did not flare, her vision blurred and her hair stood on end. Matthew yanked her away from the humming wall and let her slump to the ground.

Weiss ignored him and ran to her side, shouting her name.

By the time Ruby's head stopped swimming, Matthew had vanished into the maze.

XXXXXXX

_Kill them._

_Kill them._

_**Kill them.** _

He could smell them. The people he left behind. He knew them from somewhere, but could not recall where. All he knew was he needed to get away from them and their—  _aggravating, disgusting,_   _ **shut them up make them end-kill them**_ — emotions before it was too late.

The sounds of their heartbeats pounded in his ears—  _ **Silence them**_ — and the alluring—  _frustrating_ — scent of their fear tickled his nose. He ignored the temptation to snuff out those aggravating smells and sounds and continued forward, not backwards towards those who would not stand a chance once he erased the memories— Did he smile when he cut off Emerald's head? He could not recall. _—_ that told them that they were in danger

A part of him wondered if killing them would be a mercy compared to what waited for them.

_Drowning in his own blood. His vision fading, his fingers going numb._   _He couldn't breathe—_

A smaller, quieter part of him acknowledged he once would be terrified he could even wonder that.

Now he thought about it almost absently, as if he were considering which type of bread to buy.

_Kill them_ , his instincts urged.

He did not think "No."

He did not refuse.

He merely kept—  _forced_  himself to keep— moving forward through the maze. The Grimm ignored him and he them. They recognized him as one of their kind. That might have disturbed him once upon a time. Now, they were an afterthought that could not function as a distraction from the infuriating presences he left behind.

_Kill them._

_Kill them._

_Kill them._

_**Kill them all.** _

_**Spill their blood.** _

_**Make their suffering end.** _

_Don't turn around._

He ran through the Grimm without fear or any emotion, just another shadow within shadows. A predator among predators. He could smell his prey behind him but did  _not_  turn around—  _because if he did, he would tear them apart. Why did he not want that?_

Instead he moved forward, only forward, and ignored the passages that would let him loop back towards his potential prey. It was easier to ignore his bloodlust than he liked. Not because a part of him strained against the desire to go back and silence the frothing,  _ugly_  fear and horror of those he had attacked, but because the instinct to move forward was stronger. He could feel the darkness. It called to him like it held the end of the leash around his throat—

_His throat was so coldcoldcold. It was filled with gelatinous ice, clogging his airways. It burned._ _**He** _ _burned. He_ _**couldn't breathe—** _

The darkness's call was not gentle or warm, but harsh, angry, and commanding _— Obey, obey, obey_. His desire to ignore or fight it was small—Their fear was so  _irritating_ , like wasps and spiders  _crawling under his skin_ — completely swamped by the animalistic urge to find the darkness.

The waves of agony, grief, and madness that flitted near the darkness only drew him in faster.

He knew, once he found the source he would…

He would…

_Tear it apart._

_Silence it._

_**End the pain** _ _._

_He_ _**couldn't breathe—** _

He would have its blood.

XXXXXXX

"I found him."

Yang felt a shiver up her spine at Jett's words. They broke through the dull haze that tried to swallow her— making her feel  _alive_  once more— and she shook herself, punching a Boarbatusk through a window. Romano's Semblance rippled through the air, knocking out the Grimm, and she ran past, killing them as she went.

"Where?" she demanded.

"Two streets over." Jett reported. His eyes flicked towards her. "I'm not sure I should tell you exactly where."

Yang's teeth clenched hard enough she heard them scrape against each other. She fought the emptiness in her chest—  _Focus on the anger._  "Adam needs to be stopped. If he dies, the White Fang will fall apart."

Jett shot her an unimpressed look. "That may be the case, but don't you think you're being a bit single-minded?"

"He needs to be  _stopped_." Yang repeated.

Jett's lips pinched and he exhaled in an annoyed gust. "Why are you being so—?" He faltered, eyes going round as he stared at Yang. His expression shifted, as if he were seeing her clearly for the first time. "Oh,  _crap_. Yang, you're not thinking clearly. Salem is enhancing your—"

Yang was already gone. She destroyed anything that got in her way— White Fang or Grimm— tearing through them all as if they were nothing more than tissue paper. She passed by burning buildings and vehicles, ran through broken streets and throngs of fleeing people, and skidded around a corner, slowing to a halt as her gaze rested on yet another war-torn street. This one was filled with Grimm and White Fang, but they ignored her in favor of killing everyone else— helpless civilians who had little chance to defend themselves.

Among the band of remorseless murderers was her target.

Adam caustically killed the civilian trapped beneath his boot and stepped away from the unmoving body, flicking the blood from his sword. He looked up at Yang and his mouth twisted into a scowl.

"You."

"Me." Yang spat. Her eyes flicked to the fallen civilian and her fists trembled. "I can't believe she used to look up to you. You're a  _monster_."

Adam did not flinch. "Says the human she died for."

Sorrow slashed through the anger gripping her mind but she forced it away, shifting into a stable stance. "I'm going to stop you."

Adam was unconcerned. "Even if you do, it will not matter. Salem will win soon. Then humanity will die, and the Faunus will  _never_  be hurt again."

Yang glared at him, stomach churning in disgust.  _How can someone so terrible represent Blake's country?_ "Do you really think the Faunus want that?  _Genocide_  and a broken world in exchange for so-called 'peace and prosperity'?"

"It is the only way." Adam stated. He paused, and the harsh snarl etched into his face twisted into something that was almost miserable. "Blake would understand."

Yang ignored the lance of pain at her name and scoffed. "If that's what you think, you didn't know Blake at all."

Adam tensed. He almost seemed to hesitate, shoulders stiffening as if he were bracing himself for something unbearable. Then his red-lined mask stared at her, reflecting the light of the flames around them. "Neither did you. Blake was with the White Fang for years. Before that day on the train, she willing enough to attack and murder supposed 'innocents'."

Yang threw herself at him with a scream. Adam's glowing sword slashed— but his blow went off to Yang's side as Jett slammed into him. Adam staggered and Jett kicked him in the face. Adam swiped at him and backed off, expression slipping into a neutral look.

"Who are you?"

Jett did not answer. He stepped back until he stood beside Yang. "I heard about last time. Didn't you learn  _anything_?"

"I was going to dodge." Yang said tersely.

"Right."

Yang gritted her teeth. "Stay out of this. He's  _mine_."

Jett glared back at her. "Don't be an idiot. I'm not letting you face him alone."

Yang's eyes burned. She could not tell whether it was from anger or tears. "You don't have any claim in this."

Jett's features were hard. "He hurt my friends. That's claim enough. Besides..." His eyes flicked to the Grimm and White Fang that were closing around them. "We have more to worry about than just him..."

Yang went back-to-back with Jett, fists raised and eyes red. The White Fang and Grimm around them collapsed, and Yang almost had to smile. It vanished when she saw Adam still stood. He ignored them, teeth visibly clenched, and his gaze snapped to the shadows by a building.

He sprang like a tiger spotting prey and Lovino fell in a spray of blood. Yang froze in place as an echo of Blake fell with him. Unlike Blake, the injury was not fatal. He gasped and clutched at his bleeding shoulder as his teeth clenched in pain. Adam stood over the fallen nation and flicked the blood from his sword.

"Sorry." he said coldly. "But your Semblance won't work on me."

XXXXXXX

Blue flames and lightning devoured everything in their path, and America had no desire to stop them. He was not fighting. He was not surviving. He was not even sure he was still alive. He was not a person, but a storm of pain, letting out all the grief in an uncontrolled frenzy of lightning and flames. He distantly noticed the color— blue the shade of the sky— and he could not stop the howl that tore his throat, leaving it pained and raw as he wailed in mindless sorrow.

Mattie was dead, killed by Emerald.

Vale was dead, sacrificing herself to save him.

Yet in his state of grief-filled oblivion, America could only comprehend the emptiness where Vale once resided and the creeping realization that both his twin and closest companion were gone forever.

But even now— lost in the pain he could scarcely feel— a part of America clung to himself, keeping himself from drifting away into nothingness. A part of him realized the full extent of what Vale had done— of what she had been doing to protect him while he was being tortured. Not protection from Salem or Roman, but the Relic of Choice itself.

He could feel the Relic inside him, its weight settled heavily from his chest to abdomen like molten, living gold. Its power beckoned to him, warm and comforting as it whispered for him to let go of his last bit of humanity and open himself up to it. But America knew if he slipped from the ledge he clung to and allowed that power to overwhelm him, he would be lost. His already cracking mind would shatter to pieces and they could never be put back together again. He could not let himself fall apart now.

The Relic pulsed like a heartbeat, thrumming with energy, and amidst the storm that left America ripping at the seams, his gorge rose. He could feel the Relic trying to fill the empty void Vale left, but its presence was inhuman and  _wrong,_ like an iron maiden instead of a comforting hug. Apparently America's choice to protect the Relic from Salem until he died was stronger than his desire to want the thing gone for it did not tear itself out of him and free him of its unwanted touch. Or maybe a part of him wanted it there, because with its unearthly presence he could almost pretend he was not alone.

Aches and pains— ones not caused by the Relic— lanced through his body. Most originated in his chest. America ignored— denied— what that might mean since Vale was dea— Wasn't around anymore. He needed more reasons to keep on going, not more reasons to let death take him too. The fire kept burning yet it did not devour the stone. Was it magic that prevented the chamber's destruction or something else? America did not know or care to know. The inferno seemed to keep Salem back and that was all that mattered—

A cane appeared out from the blue inferno, striking America directly in the throat. He choked and swung blindly but Roman ducked beneath his blow, grabbing his arm. The criminal twitched, glancing nervously at their hands, yet America's flames did not eat through his Aura to devour him. America shoved him away but his vision wavered and suddenly he was on the floor with Roman looming over him.

"Looks like you don't want to hurt me, Blue." Roman mocked. "Even better, you're  _choosing_  not to hurt me. Still have feelings for your old pal?" He grinned with too many teeth and kicked America in the side.

America slid along the stone floor with a grunt and smacked into something. He peered up the staircase he was laying against and frowned. He did not recall coming down here. When did he come here? The Relic pulsed and he curled up, fingernails digging into his side. He took a gasping breath and tried to rise, but Roman pinned him down, arm across his throat. America tried to kick him off but only succeeded in sticking his leg out. The stone below him was very cold and Roman was warm but the Relic was  _burning_.

America was beginning to wonder if his insides had melted. Something was definitely wrong, and that something was the Relic of Choice. Was it reacting to his grief? Or had he been in too much pain before to notice how much it hurt? The pain became so intense that he barely felt the sharp kiss of Roman's knife against his throat.

He froze in place but grabbed Roman's arm, trying to shove the blade away from his neck. He  _had_  to fight— both Roman and the Relic— no matter how much it hurt. Otherwise he would fall, and Canada and Vale's deaths would be for nothing.

America tried to strengthen his resolve, tried to gather the will to push past his grief, but he knew he failed. Because although the flames kept burning— where was Salem among them?— Roman remained unscathed. The inferno may as well be air for all the harm it did to him. Roman burst out laughing, and the flickering light of the flames danced on his face, making his scar appear even more grotesque. He leaned over, breath tickling America's ear, and he felt his face drain of color.

"Salem is right." Roman whispered to him. "You  _want_  this to happen. You  _want_  me to hurt you. You  _want_  to die."

America's resolve wavered.

Something foreign jabbed at his consciousness, forcing his lucid thoughts away as it pushed into his conscious mind. The Relic wiped his thoughts with its golden light, filling every crevice of his being with its power. His mind splintered into pieces, giving him flashes of everything and nothing, and he lost sight of everything except the possibilities. The  _choices_. Infinite, insurmountable, limitless,  _unattainable_ —

If America were human, he would have broken then, his mind shattered by the vastness he could barely comprehend. But he was a nation. He was used to his mind splitting to see the minds of his people. So instead of breaking into pieces, something inside him  _cracked_  and he snapped back into his body.

America looked at Roman, and saw him clearly for the first time. He saw a boy who chose to run away from a simple but loving home, who chose to become a pickpocket because it was fun, who chose to become a criminal and blew up airships with glee. He saw  _every_  choice Roman made laid out before him like a map, leading up to this exact moment of his life.

But that was not all America saw when he looked at Roman. Strands of light flickered around the criminal, some bright and some dim, each floating like an aura of living tendrils that stretched into the beyond. In them, America saw every choice the criminal considered at the present. He could choose to kill America. He could continue to torture him. He could pretend to reconsider his path and release him, giving America a glimmer of hope, only to trap him again and crush his body and spirit.

Yet there were also choices Roman did not consider, or perhaps did not  _allow_  himself think of. He could run away and leave Salem behind. He could release America and join up with him, fighting her together and ensuring Roman's survival. He could use the Relic and "choose" to keep it safe from Salem, ensuring its protection extended to him. But Roman did not see those options— he did not think of those possible choices— so they flickered like dying candlelight and soon faded away.

Seeing all those possibilities was intriguing.

It was fascinating.

It was  _maddening_.

America's lips might have twitched. "I know your choices." he murmured. "You can pretend the world forced you to become a criminal. You can pretend to be forced to work for Salem all you like, but you're  _enjoying_  this. You enjoy the opportunities she gave you. You desire the power she promised you. You're  _choosing_  to work with her because you believe you'll be rewarded..."

Roman did not speak a word, only staring at him with ashen skin. America  _almost_  felt pleased by his fear, and might have if he weren't on the edge of snapping into pieces.

America chuckled. "Little selfish Roman, always looking out for Number One. Betraying everyone that knows him just to keep on surviving. You've killed so many people. You escaped prison, and death, but that is alright. Now  _I_  can choose your judgment." America put a hand on Roman's chest. "I choose death."

Roman burst into flames. The criminal shrieked and rolled off of America, clawing at his coat as blue flames devoured it. The flames tore over his body— incinerating his trademark hat— and his arms went limp. His burning body toppled to the floor of the chamber, no longer recognizable as anything but charred remains.

Rather than feel satisfaction, America felt…  _floaty_. Like his soul was not fully attached to his body anymore and if he let it drift, he would float away. He fought against his aversion to the pain and clung stubbornly to his body because he had to live he had to live  _he had to live_.

A dark figure rose from his flames like a demon straight out of hell, and America almost laughed. Oh,  _look_. Salem was back. He studied her with detached curiosity as she approached, ignoring the flames that left black streaks on her skin. Well, more black streaks. Was that what Salem's vein-thingies were? Burns? No, they weren't burns. They were Grimm-essence-vein-thingies.

...What was he doing again? His mind stretched out, seeking the presence of living souls so he could latch onto them and see their choices—

Oh, right. Bad guy. He should focus.

It was hard to focus when his brain was filled with so many things that were not his thoughts. His thoughts were stretchy and gooey like gum, getting all twisty and turny and wrong as the Relic  _forced its presence through the cracks—_

Salem stopped ten feet from him, as regal and cold as ever. America could not see her choices like he had Roman's. Was it because she was not human, or was he subconsciously shying away from the Relic's power so his cracking mind did not shatter further?

He hummed thoughtfully to himself and threw a barrage of blue lightning at the Queen of the Grimm. She dodged a few but took the rest head on. They did little more than shove her back. Salem straightened and studied him curiously but soon inclined her head, as if something she suspected had been confirmed.

"I see. The Relic is burning you from within. Even a personification like you cannot withstand using a Relic like you are. You are losing your mind, but your choice to protect the ones you love fuels the Relic. It might just have enough power to use your body as a puppet. Like a revenant." Her lips curled. "Your mind is so damaged I cannot sense your emotions."

America smiled serenely, the grin as fragile as shattered glass. "It's breaking all the broken pieces. What's left when they're gone? I'm not sure I want me to be there." He burst out laughing so he would not _scream as his insides twisted and melted_.

Salem gracefully reached out to him. "Give me the Relic and your pain will end. You can die with your soul intact."

America did not even consider it. "Nah."

He threw a blue fireball at her face—  _and ignored the tearing sensation in his gut_. She took it head on but staggered back a step. America laughed—  _so he would not scream in agony._ He flicked his hand and watched his lightning shatter the stone at Salem's feet as she dodged. Why did she dodge if she could not be killed? Was it a conscious choice, or an unconscious instinct? He could not read her so he did not know.

The Relic of Choice shifted inside him,  _burning and boiling and devouring and hurting_  and he smiled as tears streamed down his face. He could feel the Relic grabbing his soul and stamping on it to snuff it out— _like Vale did_. He was  _definitely_  dying. That sucked. If he died, Vale's sacrifice would be for nothing.

Salem's shadows glanced harmlessly off his skin and the ache in his torso grew worse. If someone cut him open and began removing his organs, it would be less painful than this. Of course the Relic had a mind of its own. Of course it was stronger than him. It was created by the Gods, and as much as it loved showing and giving choices, it  _adored_ taking those choices away.

Why would something created by the Gods ever be 'moral' by human standards? Why would it not pursue what it considered the best 'choice'? America wanted to protect his loved ones, so he chose to defend the Relic from Salem until his dying breath. But he was weakening, dying, fading—  _he wanted to join those who had passed on_ — so the Relic may as well continue his choice and defend itself.

...Why was America resisting its power anyway? America considered it as he blacked out and suddenly found himself at the bottom of the staircase of the chamber with no knowledge of how he got there. Maybe he  _should_  let go. The Relic of Choice would be much stronger without his pesky mind in the way. If it took over, he could finally rest. He could finally be  _free_.

America halted in place and spun in a lazy half-circle, avoiding Salem's barrage of darkness. He swayed unsteadily, like a marionette with half its strings cut off. Was he even fully in control of his body anymore? Was he acting on instinct to avoid Salem's attacks or was the Relic slowly overcoming him? He was not entirely certain.

Salem landed at the base of the staircase, expression twisted with annoyance. She met America's gaze and paused. Her lips curled mockingly. She did not speak a word, but her red eyes flicked to the doorway. America instinctively followed her gaze and all thoughts of the Queen of the Grimm fled his mind.

Canada stood in the stone archway of the chamber, eyes a boiling red and skin as pale as snow. Dried blood stained his chest, originating from the thick black streak across his throat. No gold tendrils of choice flickered around him. He also had the Relic of Destruction on his back but America did not care about that. Only Canada mattered. His twin's nostrils flared and his crimson gaze snapped up to meet America's. He stepped forward, but America was already moving towards him.

" _Mattie!_ "

America collided with his twin and hugged him tightly. Canada recoiled and did not hug him back, hands twitching as his fingers flexed. He stood stiffly, every muscle tense and quivering like a taut bowstring. America shut his eyes and listened to his brother's breathing. His breath and skin were very cold, but it did not matter. Mattie was  _here_. He was here, so everything was  _okay_. Except… Mattie was  _dead_.

America's fractured mind managed to put the pieces together and he frowned, more perplexed than sad. "Am I dead?" The thought was rather disappointing, but in a distant way, like he'd aimed to get an A-plus on a test but got an A. "Sorry. I did not mean to die yet."

Canada blinked and America thought he saw a flicker of violet in those red eyes. It was gone before he could be sure. He hummed to himself and clung to his twin, laying his head on his shoulder. Pain lanced through his stomach and chest and he shivered.

"It hurts, Mattie. Why does it still hurt if I'm dead?" His brow furrowed. "I'm dead. And you're dead. And Vale's dead." America released his brother and swayed on his feet as he looked around in a circle. "Is Vale here too? She died for me like you did." Grief slashed at his consciousness like a lash from a whip and he trembled, looking to his brother with watery eyes. "Why did she do that?"

Canada stared at him. His crimson eyes did not blink.

America registered the sound of laughter and squinted at Salem. A part of mind screamed at him to react but that part was with the parts that hurt and were sharp and were more horrible than the Relic's numbing haze. Salem kept chuckling, smile cold and sharp like a shark's, and her eyes glowed.

" **Kill him.** "

Canada's eyes glowed crimson.

His hands jerked up, and ice-cold fingers wrapped around America's throat.

XXXXXXX

Norway raced through the entrance of America's mansion, not bothering to remove his shoes or coat as he ran. He brushed past Sealand as the micronation shouted questions at him and ignored Uni as she stepped out of the living room with a soft, confused sound. He even jumped over Americat, who meowed an annoyed complaint at being so casually dismissed.

There was no time to be polite. Tony had ignored all of his attempts to contact him, and Norway had the sinking feeling he knew why. That was why he left the Taskforce and headed straight back to the mansion as quickly as he could. He ran into the alien in the hallway— literally. Tony staggered slightly from the collision but barely faltered, continuing towards his lab.

Norway blocked his path. "Tony—"

"Do not attempt to delay me." Tony growled, shoving past him. "The Grimm are going for America's heart. I won't let them." He hurried down the hall, talking rapidly as he went. "Based on the data I have gathered, the Grimm are not naturally-born creatures that follow the rules of real living species. They come from a specific source— likely Grimm pools— and rely on those pools to survive. It is why they do not need to eat, and fade away when killed. If those pools are destroyed, I predict a majority of the Grimm will die or fade away since the source of their existence will be eradicated."

Norway realized what he had suspected was in fact true. "Tony, you  _can't_. The weapon hasn't been tested—"

"That is why I am not using it here." Tony growled. "And do not tell me what to do. They're trying to  _kill_  America."

Norway faltered.

"Norway?" Iceland peered out from a doorway, looking between Norway and Tony and watching as the alien continued down the hall. "I heard your footsteps. You're in a rush. What's going on?"

"The Grimm are attacking. Large-scale." Norway said bluntly. "Tony and I have a way to stop them."

Iceland paled. "W-What?"

Norway turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know that ritual England used to get to Remnant?" At Iceland's nod, he continued. "We've adjusted the ritual so it will go to the place with the greatest concentration of Grimm."

Iceland's eyes went round. "But that's on Remnant."

"Yes." Norway said quietly. He hesitated. "While we're down there preparing, I need you to free Copper— the Remnant soldier— and defend the mansion, okay? If the Grimm figure out what we're doing, they'll try to stop us. In fact, they might already be on their way here."

Iceland swallowed. "O-Okay."

Norway wished he had the time to comfort his brother, but he did not. He hugged Iceland— who did not pull away— and let him hurry off before running after Tony. The alien could move surprisingly quickly when he wanted to.

"Are we sure we should do this?" he questioned. "What if we miss?"

Tony shrugged. "I am a scientist. I always build more than one."

Norway shot him a disapproving look. "That is not what I meant."

Tony eyed him and snorted. "If it hits a human city they will be fine. The weapon causes minimal damage and only kills Grimm."

Seeing the neutral look on Tony's face, Norway was not sure he believed him. "What if it does not stop them?"

Tony's red eyes were cold. "Then we keep fighting."


	39. Ashes in the Wind

Ruby's footsteps smacked on the marble floor of the corridor, accompanied by those of her friends and the low, ominous hum of the walls around them. The maze stretched in front of them with no end in sight, vanishing into pathways that twisted and turned, and she had no idea where they were anymore.

They could be near the exit, or somewhere in the middle, or their goal could be just on the other side of one of these walls. There was no way to tell. They went around a corner to find  _another_  dead end and Arthur spat a curse that would have Ruby washing her mouth with soap for a month if she uttered it in front of Taiyang.

"This is  _hopeless!_ " he exploded. "How did Ozpin expect us to navigate this place?"

"I don't think he did." Weiss panted, leaning on her rapier. "He probably made it so only he and Vale could get through easily."

"Hopefully Salem is as lost as we are then." Ruby said, but she was not sure she believed it.

She shot an Ursa between its glowing red eyes and rounded another corner, only to find  _yet another wall_  blocking their path. Arthur angrily blasted the wall but his magic dissipated harmlessly in a flicker of green, leaving it unscathed. Ruby bit back a groan and followed Francis back down the path they had just run up.

 _We're taking too long._   _I could speed around and find the right path. But even that might take too long. If only I could go through the—_

Ruby's eye snapped to Feliciano and she halted in place. The others realized she was not following them and slowed as well, backing up to her as they eyed the diverging paths warily.

"What do you see?" Weiss asked.

"Nothing." Ruby said quickly. "I just… Um... The Relic must be in the center, right?"

"I  _don't know._ " Arthur grunted, skin crackling with violet energy.

Penny sliced an Alpha in two before it could reach him. Ruby shifted closer to Feliciano, body angled slightly towards him. Their eyes met and his darted back and forth uncomfortably as a crinkle appeared between his brows. Ruby's mouth was dry, but she forced herself to swallow.

"We're wasting too much time and keep running into dead ends. We need to get to Alfred and Matthew as soon as possible."

She appeared to speak to the group, but in reality she spoke only to Feliciano. The crinkle in his forehead deepened before his eyes went round, and his skin blanched to a sickly shade. His throat bobbed visibly as he nodded slowly, and Ruby knew he realized what she was asking.

Arthur realized as well. He jerked towards Ruby. " _Don't—_ "

Weiss grabbed Feliciano just in time. Ruby burst into rose petals and scooped them both up. As Arthur, Francis, and even Penny shouted at them to stop, the petals hit the wall and passed through it.

XXXXXXX

Pyrrha dove behind a broken wall and pressed against it as the Grimm Dragon's screech tore through the air. She peered out of cover and threw a chunk of metal at the Grimm, catching it in the throat. The metal hardly moved it, but it caused the Dragon to jerk in midair and hit a window instead of Nora, sending glass crumbling down.

The Grimm Dragon clung to the remnants of the building and screeched again. Black ooze dripped from its skin. Nora glowed white and shot forward, tearing through a swath of Grimm. She halted next to Pyrrha and leaned against the wall, panting.

"We can't keep this up. There are too many Grimm."

Pyrrha forced herself not to think about how it was  _Nora_  who said that. She stabbed a Beowolf, an Alpha, an Ursa, a Beringel, but no matter how many Grimm she killed, two more took their place. As she leaned against the wall to take a breather, she spotted what appeared to be one of the gears from Ozpin's office and counted down, watching the Grimm Dragon's throat muscles flex.

She threw the gigantic gear as the Dragon's mouth opened and the metal shot into its jugular. Even the gear— which was bigger than she was tall— was nothing more than a morsel to the Dragon, though it caused it to choke briefly. Then it screeched and soared over Pyrrha and Nora's position, leaving Grimm in its wake.

Glyphs appeared around them and Winter sped between them, as graceful as an ice skater as she slashed through the Grimm. She slid to a halt, skin aglow with white energy, and Jaune and Ren landed beside them. Pyrrha felt a tingle and saw Ren's head was bowed in concentration as he kept the Grimm from noticing them. For the moment, at least.

"This is not working." Winter said flatly. "The Dragon spawns as many Grimm as we kill. We need a new plan."

Nora raised her hammer with a growl. "Kill it."

Winter shot her an exasperated look. " _How?_ "

Pyrrha looked to Jaune, who stood quietly as he looked to the sky. The Grimm Dragon's shadow fell over them briefly, but soon faded away as it moved on without noticing them. Jaune's blue eyes flicked open and he looked to Pyrrha.

"That gear affected it."

Winter's brow furrowed. "I do not know what you think you saw, but it did nothing."

Jaune shook his head. "I don't mean that it did anything major. It just choked it. Only for a second, but it did. I think its insides aren't as strong as its skin."

Nora opened her mouth.

"Nora, you are  _not_  jumping in the Grimm Dragon's mouth." Ren said sharply.

Nora closed her mouth. "Well how do we attack it from the inside, then?"

Pyrrha looked to Winter. "Winter, do you have anything?"

She shook her head. "None of my summons are large enough. They'd fade before they could do anything. Weiss's Knight or Lancer Queen might be hardy enough, but I have nothing of that size or strength."

Pyrrha wondered if Winter knew she sounded proud as she admitted that her sister had more powerful summons than her. She glanced at Winter's weapon and noticed a few of the Dust cartridges were empty. Her own weapon had plenty left— she did not use bullets as much as her Semblance and Xiphos today— so she opened up Miló's chamber and pulled out the cartridge she had.

"Winter, take this."

Winter glanced at the offered Dust and accepted it with a nod, clicking it into place. Jaune's gaze followed the movement and his eyes went wide.

"Dust."

Nora shot a Creep that wandered too close to their hiding spot. "What?"

"Dust explodes." Jaune elaborated. "If we had enough of it and blew it up inside of the Grimm, we might injure it enough to take it out."

Winter considered his idea and nodded slowly. "That… may work. How would we get the Dust inside?"

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha. "Do you think you can lift an airship again?"

Pyrrha gripped his hand. "With you, I can do anything."

A bit of the nervousness fled Jaune's expression and he relaxed, smiling softly at her before he clicked on his radio. "Sterlyn, we need your airship and as much Dust as you can get."

XXXXXXX

It was strange that it took the haze of battle for Yang's mind to clear. The pulse of adrenaline that rushed through her veins was as comforting as the sea; violent and unpredictable, but calming in the way it frothed and roiled. Battle was her element, and there was no place she would rather be than here. She just wished it was not Jett who faced Adam at her side. But with the rage pushed away in favor of battle— rage she could not say was not her own— Yang knew she could not face her enemy alone.

Yang dodged a crimson slash of energy and it sliced through a store front, bringing the whole building down with it. She dodged again, socking Adam in the chest, but he recovered with scarcely a grunt. He blocked Jett's shots and swayed below Yang's fist, kicking her in the stomach. She stumbled back and ducked below his swing, shooting him in the side. His Aura took the blow and he blocked his back, stopping a strike from Jett that would have struck the back of his head. He shoved Jett away and leaped backwards, sheathing his sword.

Yang grabbed Jett and threw them both aside as Adam's charged weapon turned the air red, destroying another building. Yang heard Lovino scream and saw him cover his head, but he did not run away. Instead he used his Semblance on the swarming Grimm, knocking them out and killing them before they could reach the fighters. She hoped he could keep it up.

Yang and Jett separated and he blasted forward, locking his blades with Adam's. She dove in and Jett ducked, slashing at the back of Adam's leg. Yang's punch sent Adam onto his back but he twisted, knocking her feet out from under her as she recovered. She jabbed him in the throat and was disappointed when he only grunted. Adam's foot slammed down on her chest, pinning her to the ground and forcing the air from her lungs in a whoosh.

He blocked Jett again and pushed him back, releasing a pulse of energy. Jett jumped onto a car and twisted in midair, barely avoiding the slash that tore easily through the metal. He landed on the broken vehicle and wavered, losing his footing. Adam's next blow sent him through a wall. Yang grabbed Adam's foot and twisted it, bringing him down. Before she could strike him, he elbowed her in the chin and rolled away, rising back to his feet.

Yang panted as she rose as well, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She saw red energy reflected off the glass and rolled to the side, mind scrambling as she tried to figure out how Adam had gathered energy away from his sword—

It was not Adam's Semblance that caused the light.

A red portal had opened up behind her.

Adam jumped back, watching warily as figures appeared out of the red scar. Unfamiliar people in a mishmash of clothing and gear ran out of the scar, whooping and cheering as they ran into Vale's streets. The final person strutted out with a hand on her sword, and barely visible red eyes scanned the Grimm-filled city with distaste.

"What a mess." Raven murmured with a tinge of exasperation. She raised her voice. "Save the civilians but  _don't_  steal from them. Stores and White Fang are fair game. Get your payment from there."

The bandits of the Branwen tribe gave a chorus of genuine to sarcastic "Yes ma'ams." and vanished down the street. The one Yang vaguely recognized as Raven's second-in-command lingered at her side, icy blue eyes scanning the area with a tinge of boredom. Raven remained in place, hand on her sword, and her eyes settled on Adam, piercing him from within her mask. The slight shift in Raven's posture told Yang she was displeased.

"I see you wear a Grimm mask to strike fear into your enemies as well. I'm flattered you copied our ways." The disinterested disdain was clear in Raven's voice, as if she were facing an aggravating puppy. Red eyes glinted from behind the mask. "And before you attempt to claim you copied nothing; Know my tribe is much older than your organization  _and_  your country, Menagerie."

Adam's lips thinned.

Raven removed her mask and clipped it at her belt. She placed her hand back on the hilt of her sword and glanced sidelong at Yang. "This is your fight. I will not interfere."

Raven walked off without another word. Yang could not decide whether she appreciated or hated the gesture.

Jett felt no such conflict. "You're mother is whacked."

For a second, Adam almost looked inclined to agree. Then he shook himself and slashed at Yang. She dodged the slash and propelled herself upward with a shotgun blast, using another shot to shoot herself down. Her metal fist met the flat end of Adam's sword and Yang saw the kinetic energy ripple into the red blade. She flipped backwards but could not fully avoid the burst of red energy. She blocked it with her metal arm and heard the metal  _crack_.

Yang's right arm sparked, going limp at her side, and she gritted her teeth. The golden metal fingers twitched but did little else. Seeing the deep carve in her robotic arm, Yang could only be grateful it was not her flesh one.

"Yang!"

Jett's warning came just in time and she flung herself backwards, left arm raised defensively. Yang felt the blow graze her skin as it slashed through Ember Celica. The broken gauntlet slipped from around her wrist and fell to the ground. Yang backed up a pace and reached up, grabbing Gambol Shroud. Adam's jaw clenched and he sprang towards her.

A giant boomerang shot at Adam but he swayed to the side, avoiding the weapon. He straightened, sword held in one hand, but Yang had enough time to unsheathe Gambol Shroud, holding it in both hands even as her right one sparked.

Adam's expression twisted. "You don't deserve to wield that—"

The boomerang slammed into the back of Adam's neck and his Aura vanished in a flare of light. He gasped, staggering forward, and Yang kicked his legs out from beneath him. His head hit the floor and his mask shattered, breaking in two as his weapon clattered on the ground. One of the pieces of his mask cut his forehead and he grunted, pushing himself up as he clasped a hand to the wound—

Yang lunged, and Gambol Shroud pierced his chest and went out his back in a spray of blood.

Red blossomed over his chest and Yang froze, stepping back. The movement brought Gambol Shroud with her and it slipped out of Adam's chest. He crumpled to his knees, then tipped sideways, laying on the ground. His chest heaved, the movement hitched and shaky, and he reached up to press a hand to his injury, eyes squeezed shut.

As Yang saw the pained look on his face, she felt no victory. She felt no relief. She did not even feel numb. Instead, horror ripped through, tearing all her rage away like ashes in the wind.

"No…"

She knelt beside him and ripped off her coat, pressing it to the injury she had caused. Slowly a  _violet_  eye— violet like her own— opened. Yang did not know what she was expecting underneath the mask, but it was not a normal face. She expected a scar, or evil red eyes, or something on the outside that reflected the monster that must be lurking within.

The face she saw was not that of a monster, but a person. Just… a  _person_. And those eyes… if they were red, or yellow, or icy blue, she may be able to claim they looked inhuman. But they were violet, and she could not claim that without seeing a monster in herself.

"What are you doing?" Adam rasped.

"I don't know." Yang admitted. Despite her words, she was completely unsurprised by the harshness of her tone.

Yang should not be trying to help him. He was a terrorist, a murderer, a monster. He cut off her arm, hunted Blake,  _hurt_  her. She was the one who injured him in the first place. They were bitter enemies, yet here she was, trying to stem the steady flow of blood that stained her coat and hands.

Yang's hands trembled. "You need to live to stand trial for what you've done."

Adam snorted. The sound was accompanied by a bubble of blood. It dripped down his cheek and onto the crimson ground. "You'd save me in order to throw me to those wolves to be torn apart?"

"You  _deserve_  it." Yang snapped.

Adam was quiet long enough that if not for the life in his eyes, she may think he had passed. "Maybe I do." His fingers clenched, but even that movement was slow and weak. "I do not regret it. This was the  _only_  way we could be free..."

"No it  _wasn't_." Yang whispered. "And you  _know_  it. You know Salem would  _never_  let the Faunus live in peace."

There was no mask to hide the way her words affected him. His violet eyes shut tightly, and Yang knew it was not from the physical pain. He exhaled shakily, the sound accompanied by a wet rattle, and Yang knew he would not make it to trial. She was not sure she wanted him to. Violet eyes— the shade just slightly darker than her own— locked with hers, and despite his earlier claims, Yang saw regret there.

"Stop her." Adam said quietly. "For the Faunus. For  _Blake_."

"I will." Yang whispered.

Adam smiled. His eyes slipped closed, and his features went lax. The smile lingered on his face. Yang almost hated how peaceful he looked. After all the pain he caused Vale, Remnant, Blake, and herself, a part of her wanted him to suffer as everyone else did because of him. That part was so quiet she barely noticed it among the shock and misery that swamped her.

Yang sat heavily and stared at Adam's body, chest heaving. A hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched, raising her fists. Lovino stood beside her, expression blank, but he was not the one who held her shoulder securely, keeping her focused on the outside world.

Jett studied her carefully, green eyes soft and solemn. "This is a war."

"I know." Yang said softly.

"He worked with Salem."

"I know."

"He's a personification. You couldn't arrest him and expect him to stay put."

"I know."

"He's going to reincarnate."

"I know."

Jett glanced at Adam's body and away. "...It's likely he's going to change. His next life might be better."

Tears slipped down Yang's cheeks. "I..."  _Hope it_ _ **is**_ _. Hope it_ _ **isn't**_ _. I_ _ **don't know**_ _._  "...know."

Jett sighed and pulled her to her feet. "We're not done yet. Let's go."

Yang let Jett help her away.

XXXXXXX

"All right." Sealand said. "Does everyone have a weapon?"

Murmurs of assent rippled through the gathered personifications and single human. Iceland glanced down at the makeshift spear he had crafted out of a pole and kitchen knife and tried to breathe. He would never admit it aloud, but he was nervous. Tony's alarms had started beeping mere minutes ago, filling the halls of he mansion with violent red light.

The defenders could not find any Grimm on the cameras, telling them the alien's security systems were keeping the Grimm at bay, but Iceland knew it would not last. It would be up to him, Sealand, Molossia, Seborga, Wy, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Macau, and Copper to defend the mansion once they broke through. The soldier had agreed to help as soon as Iceland explained what was happening.

Copper and Molossia were the only ones with long-range weapons. One would think America would have a safe filled with guns in the mansion in case something exactly like this happened but apparently not. Though usually Tony's defenses would be enough to ward off monster that tried to break in.

Iceland was not naive enough to think Tony's defenses would hold the Grimm back indefinitely. In the short time they had, the personifications and Copper had brought down the metal planes that covered the windows and blocked the doorways, while reinforcing everything as best they could.

None of it helped ease Iceland's rattled nerves. Norway and Tony were relying on  _them_  to hold off the Grimm long enough to send the weapon. He shifted uneasily and exhaled again. A soft nose nudged his palm and he glanced at Uni. The unicorn's eyes met his and she nuzzled him again, careful to keep the edge of her broken horn away from his skin. He absently patted her nose and had to admit it calmed him.

"What are you doing?" Taiwan asked him, squinting in Uni's general direction. Her expression cleared. "Oh. Is Uni there?"

"Yes." Iceland said instinctively. He winced and hastily amended his answer. "Maybe."

"She can help us fight." Sealand said eagerly.

Uni's head rose and her ears perked up. The lamplight cast shadows through the deep, jagged edge of her broken horn.

Iceland hesitated. "I don't know if—"

There was the sound of breaking metal and the low tones of the alarms became piercing shrieks. Macau lunged for the security feed. Black figures moved over the yard, rapidly approaching the mansion. Iceland glanced at the sky and desperately wished clouds could be black and bird-shaped.

"We are going to die." Seborga whispered.

"Keep up that mentality and you probably  _will_." Wy snapped.

The front door rattled as something heavy slammed into it. A glance at the security feed showed a Goliath had smashed into the door like a battering ram. It backed up and did it again, and the metal began to buckle, bubbling inward. A large red eye stared at them through the crack.

Iceland stabbed it. The Grimm roared and jerked back, pulling his spear free of its flesh. It collapsed, and another Goliath took its place, smashing into the door. Copper shot it and it fell. The roars and screeches of Grimm grew steadily louder, and Iceland knew they would not be able to keep them outside for long.

Seborga whimpered.

Molossia raised his bat. "Get ready. Here they come."

XXXXXXX

As Canada's hands latched around his throat, clarity flickered through the haze of the Relic's presence and America clung to it desperately. His mind tried to shy away from the pain wracking his body but he did not allow himself to drift again. Instead he remained locked in place as Canada's fingers constricted, cutting off his air flow.

Most people would struggle. They would fight back. They might shove their attacker, claw at his hands or eyes, or maybe scream. America did none of those things. Instead he stood passively and stared at Mattie with his hands limp at his sides.

 _I don't want to hurt him,_  was his first coherent thought.

No one responded from the recesses of his mind. No one was there to respond. His griefstricken sob came out as a soft, choked sound and his hands instinctively reached up to pull feebly at Canada's.

"M-Matt—"

No recognition flashed through his brother's crimson gaze. His fingers tightened and America choked. He gripped Canada's wrists and pulled at them, but his brother's vice-like grip did not release. In fact, they clenched harder, digging into the skin of America's throat. America felt spikes of pain from Canada's nails before beads of blood trickled down his neck. He tried to speak again but could only utter a pained gasp as black spots flickered at the edges of his vision.

Canada did not react to his pain. His blank red eyes never blinked, reminding America of Penny at her coldest. But this was not Penny. This was  _Canada_. His gentle, empathetic, kind, compassionate, cautious brother. The Canada that stood before him— that was  _strangling_  him— was all wrong, yet America could not bear to do more than yank halfheartedly at his brother's constricting hands.

_I don't want to hurt him._

Salem sighed, the sound reverberating with the smallest hint of a growl. "As satisfying as this is to watch, I have no patience to wait for you to strangle him. Use the Relic and  _kill him_."

Canada instantly released America. America had a millisecond to hope before his brother's foot met his midsection. The sharp ache when his back hit the stone floor was nothing compared to the agonizing burn from the Relic of Choice. Pain lanced out from the site where Canada kicked him and lava boiled his insides.

America curled up, clutching at the spot as he fought for breath, teeth clenched to hold back a scream. Evidently, the Relic did not appreciate being struck. Canada stepped forward, reaching for Destruction, only to halt when Salem raised her hand.

Cold red eyes locked onto the glowing leaves under America's skin and she lowered her hand. "On second thought… use Destruction and retrieve Choice for me."

Canada inclined his head and unsheathed the Relic of Destruction. He walked up to America and stomped on his chest before he could attempt to rise. America grunted and grabbed his brother's foot but froze.

_I don't want to hurt him._

His hands slid from Canada's ankle and fell limply to his sides. The Relic of Choice yanked at his consciousness, splitting his focus as it urged him to choose to fight, but America ignored its honey-like venom even as Canada raised Destruction above his head, ready to bring it down. Because America would  _not_  hurt Mattie. Not even to save himself.

Except...

_If Vale were here she'd yell at me to stop being an idiot. And Mattie..._

Canada would want him to fight.

America shut his eyes, raised his hand, and sent his twin flying with a wind-fueled punch.

The blast of wind sent Canada flying halfway across the chamber. He twisted unnaturally in the air and landed on his feet. He straightened and took two steps before blasting towards America in a gale of icy wind, Relic raised. Black-tinged golden energy gathered at the tip and America threw himself aside, barely dodging the arc-like blast of light. It hit a pillar and it exploded into dust that fell to the floor in an avalanche of stone.

America felt a few jab his bare feet as he ducked another swipe. This one shattered the altar, turning it into dust. Energy rippled and again, America was forced to dodge, flying more than jumping as he twisted out of Destruction's sights. He tripped over his own foot and fell to his knees, and small shards of stone sank into his palm. He ignored the spurts of pain and blood and summoned a flare of blue flames, covering his position long enough to regain his footing.

He did not expect Canada to emerge from the fire. As his brother's fist met his jaw, turning his vision white, America could only count his blessings that Canada had struck with his hand and not Destruction. America threw Canada back with a pulse of wind but his brother slashed the air, turning it black and gold. America dodged, but was not quick enough. The energy glanced off his arm, knocking him off his feet. The impact with the ground hurt more than the strike, and America's breath caught.

"Matt—"

Canada slammed into him, knocking him onto his front, and pinned him down with a foot on his back. America felt the pressure of something else against his back but felt no pain. Before he could consider it, Canada moved off his back and grabbed his head. He smashed it into the stone; once, twice, thrice. America's vision doubled as blood trickled into his eyelashes.

" **Kill him already!** " Salem ordered.

Canada released America and kicked him onto his back, pointing the Relic of Destruction at his chest. America found himself back in his previous position, as if he had never fought at all. Instead of quietly waiting for death, America looked his brother in his cold red eyes and smiled.

"Matt—"

Canada struck him. Not with the Relic, but once again his fist. The crack of flesh striking flesh was almost enough to distract America from the jolt of pain in his cheek, and his mind flashed back to that day in the forest where so much almost went wrong. America knew what was happening. His thundering heartbeat slowed. He exhaled shakily and met Canada's crimson eyes again.

"She can't control you, Canada. She never could—"

Canada's lips parted. The laugh that came from his brother sent chills up America's spine. It was worse than the sound of nails on a chalkboard, torturous and unhinged as a monster's triumphant shriek. Canada leaned in close to America, a smile playing at his lips and his eyes wide and unblinking.

"Control me? You think she is  _controlling_  me?" Again he laughed, sending prickles of goosebumps up America's arms. "Salem isn't making me do  _any_  of this." Canada's icy breath brushed America's ear and his skin went cold. "Don't you understand yet? This is  _all_  from me… and I  _hate_  you."

The voice, the tone, even the volume was Canada's, but America knew this was not him. These were not his words. He was not the one saying them. Because America knew his brother better than that.

America turned his head away from Canada and glared at Salem.

"Let him go." he snarled, and the only reason he did not spark was to avoid hurting Canada.

Irritated as she was by the delay, Salem still looked bemused. "I cannot. I'm not doing anything."

America's lip curled into a sneer. "Oh, so all the dramatic echoing voices were for show—?" Canada grabbed his throat and he choked, grasping at his brother's fingers. "Stop—" he grunted. "You're stronger— than her."

Canada's fingers loosened slightly, but only enough for America to draw in a pained breath. A smile stretched across Canada's face, slow and sadistic as America struggled for breath.

"Why would I stop? This is who I am. This is who I always was inside." His smile twitched, fading into a dark look. "A liar. A replacement. A  _monster_."

America shook his head. "None of that is true, Mattie. Stop fooling yourself into believing Salem's lies."

Canada bared his teeth. " _I'm_  the one fooling myself? That's rich coming from  _you_. I've  _always_  resented you. I've  _always_  been a monster. You just couldn't see it."

America finally understood what had happened. What Salem had done to his brother. He shoved down his fury and reached for Canada, ignoring the hands lingering around his throat.

"Mattie, I already told you that your Semblance doesn't mean—"

What was going on? Why was he here? Who was— Why was  _Canada_  hurting him? Was something wrong? Was Canada hurt? America bit back his panic and thrashed, clawing at his brother's fingers as black spots invaded his vision. Memory returned in a snap and he calmed down, gritting his teeth.

"That's not going to wor—"

Memory fled and he bit back a scream of terror as he registered he was pinned on his front with someone behind him. Was it the ex-soldier? How? He'd escaped the man, right? He'd killed him.

Pain tore through his mind and tears sprang to his eyes. Why was he in a stone room? Who was that creepy-looking lady? Where were Roman, Neo, and Mercury? Surely they would know what was going on—

 **Pain**. He did not know where he was. He did not know who he was. All he knew was that he was in pain, and the person holding him down with a vice-like grip was hurting him more. He struggled a bit but soon gave up, gaze darting about nervously. A pale hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back, and America found himself face-to-face with a red-eyed, black-veined face. He recognized him in an instant.

"Mattie."

Canada's furious red eyes narrowed and he slammed America's head into the ground. Stars danced behind America's eyes and he curled up as agony tore through his torso. He huddled on the floor and bit through his lip, but forced his eyes open so he could see his brother.

"Mattie, whatever is going on, we're going to be okay, okay? You're going to be okay."

He reached out to grasp his brother's hand but Canada yanked it out of reach. He kicked America in the stomach and America curled up, clutching at the spot as blows rained down on him.

" _Stop trying to be better than me!_ " Canada screamed.

Memory forced its way through the fog and America turned his head, keeping his arms crossed defensively over his burning abdomen. "You always did think the worst of yourself." he rasped. "As your brother, I cannot let that stand. I already lectured you, but you just don't listen sometimes, you know that? You are one of the kindest—"

He grunted as Canada struck him in the side.

"—gentlest—"

He bit back a gasp as his brother smashed his head into the blood-stained floor.

"—most empathetic and wonderful people I know."

He barely flinched as Canada pointed the Relic of Destruction at his throat. America felt blood trickle down his neck, but knew it did not come from the sword. He took a moment to catch his breath, feeling a slight ache from his near-strangulation, but held his brother's gaze.

"Salem is a manipulative bitch. Everything she said is lies. You  _know_  this. You know you're amazing and awesome and strong. You're not alone."

Canada's hands quivered. The Relic of Destruction fell away from America's throat, pointing at the floor. America sat up and stumbled to his feet, shoulders hunched as he pressed a hand to his burning skin. Canada watched him with a blank expression but did not stop him.

America smiled gently at him. "Canada, you're not a prisoner anymore. You're  _free_. She can't hurt you anymore."

Canada tensed. His nostrils flared. "I can smell your fear."

"For you." America whispered. "It's  _for_  you."

America wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him into a hug. He felt the Relic of Destruction press against his abdomen, but no pain accompanied its touch. America had the feeling that even if he  _tried_  to impale himself on the weapon, Destruction would never pierce his skin as long as Canada held it.

Canada did not seem to understand that, for as soon as the weapon touched America he flinched, trying to pull it away from his brother's skin. America smiled and held Canada tightly, rocking him back and forth as he shushed him.

"It's okay." he soothed him. "I'm here, Mattie. I'm here."

Violet flecks reappeared in Canada's eyes and tendrils of gold shimmered to life around him. He took a breath and his eyes fluttered, like he was waking from a deep sleep. He glanced around, brow furrowed slightly, before his gaze slid to America's bruised throat. His already pale skin turned another shade whiter.

America smiled weakly. "Hey, bro. Welcome back."

Canada's violet-flecked eyes snapped past him and he shoved America behind him. His stance shifted back into that of a predator, his lips twisted into a snarl, and America was reminded of a wolf protecting her cubs.

"Don't be overprotective now, Mattie." America joked. "That's Arthur's job."

Canada's lips slipped from that unnatural snarl and twitched. His unblinking eyes stayed on Salem. The Queen of the Grimm's fiery red gaze locked onto America and her lip curled.

"I  _genuinely_  despise you." Salem said icily.

America laughed. "Sorry, but I'm not going to lay down and die for you or anyone else." He felt a twinge in his torso and smiled at the Relic of Choice. "You're included in that, by the way."

Canada shot him an odd look. Oh, right. He might not realize why America had glowy tattoo-thingies.

"Yeah, the Relic of Choice is inside me right now." America explained cheerfully  _so he would not scream_. A jolt of pain went through him and he winced. "Trying not to think about it because it's tearing my insides apart,  _hahahaha_." He grunted and clutched at his head, taking a deep breath as he tried to ignore the pain his expanding lungs caused. "Keep it together." he whispered.

Canada's expression twisted into a sorrowful look and he flinched, gritting his teeth. His eyes glowed red and violet as he glared hatefully at Salem.

"I'm  _not_  your puppet." Canada snarled.

The only anger Salem showed was through a slight twitch on her face. Salem flicked her hand and black pools appeared around her. The stone beneath them sizzled like the ooze was acid and bone-tipped paws emerged from the goo. The Grimm crawled out of the ooze and the thick, gooey substance dripped off of their fur and onto the floor.

America went back to back with Canada and smiled brightly. "Salem can't touch me right now. But her minions can. Isn't that  _so_  unfair?"

"I wouldn't call that unfair." Canada said dryly. "Maybe unnerving."

"Unnerving, smunnerving." America said dismissively. "Let's make Grimm go boom."

He laughed as he summoned blue flames and burned the Grimm to ashes. He wished he could claim his joy was genuine and came from his brother's survival, but in actuality he knew only part of it was real. The rest came from the desperate need to avoid thinking about the Relic of Choice too much. Canada slashed the remaining Grimm to bits with a little too much ferocity, and America knew he was not the only one struggling. Both of them were dancing on the edge of madness.

Salem's arm distorted into that of a Nuckelavee's and shot towards Canada. America stepped in front of his brother and watched the arm shoot to the side like it had hit a solid wall. It struck the ceiling, forcing America and Canada to separate as chunks of mortar fell. An Alpha pounced on America but he blew it up with lightning. Did he even have any Aura left? Or was the Relic fueling his Semblance now?

Another Grimm tackled him, jaws locking around his throat, but Canada stabbed it before it could bite him. America sat up, swaying on his feet. His stomach twisted and he curled up, vomiting red-flecked bile onto the dirt. He wiped at his mouth and punched himself weakly in the stomach.

"Stop trying to kill me."

The Relic burned and his vision darkened. He regained consciousness to find Canada's arm around his shoulders, keeping him upright. His brother remained in a crouch and snarled at Salem, teeth bared and eyes more violet than red. Salem was unimpressed. Her hands were folded neatly as she stood among a horde of Grimm. There were a lot more this time. How did she create so many?

"He's dying." Salem said. "He will not last much longer."

Canada's hold tightened. His skin was cold again.

America forced himself to lift his head. "Not going to die yet." he slurred. "Gotta live… out of spite so I can kick your egotistical ass."

"Don't give up." Canada whispered, and America was reminded of another person who said those words.

His vision blurred, this time with tears. "I won't."

Salem shook her head in disgust. "Even now, you continue to fight despite the futility of your battle." Her eyes gleamed and she tipped her head, almost mockingly. "You cannot kill me, but you will soon die. Let my Grimm  _assist_ you to the afterlife."

The Grimm lunged like a black tidal wave. Canada shoved America behind him and raised the Relic of Destruction. He slashed the air, and the wave of black-tinged gold energy tore through the creatures. A few Nevermore evaded the blast and flapped their wings, shooting dagger-like feathers at the twins.

Rose petals burst into view, shooting past the Grimm, and they fell in pieces to the floor. A glyph sent Salem flying into a column. The petals turned into Ruby, Weiss, and a shaking Italy as they stood between Salem and the twins.

"Sorry we're late." Ruby panted. "We—"

She glanced at America and balked. The Relic of Choice zeroed in on her and her choices shone in shades of gold. One tendril caught America's eye, faint but stubbornly clinging to life.

America watched it stream out of Ruby's eye like the faintest of flames and wondered what was keeping it alive. Was it Ruby herself? America got distracted by previous choices that Ruby made in her life and returned to his body in time to see Grimm lunging for her. He idly burned them to a crisp and smiled at Ruby.

"So you chose to let Russia drag me into the woods that night, huh? That was kinda mean."

Ruby turned white. America hastily blasted a Griffon to smithereens and turned to her, patting her on the shoulder.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to distress you. I just noticed your life choices." 'Distress' brought memories flooding back and panic allowed him to cling back to some semblance of urgency. "Is Penny alive?"

Ruby's mouth moved like a fish on land. "Uh, yes. She's fine last I saw her." America watched her consider several different responses before settling on one. "...What's wrong with your eyes?" She glanced at his mouth and paled further. "You're bleeding."

America wiped the blood away and considered the smear of crimson on his fingers. He chuckled. "I'm in so much pain right now I didn't even notice. The Relic is inside me, by the way. It hurts. I think I want to die but I can't. Not yet, hahaha."

Ruby's jaw clenched and quivered. "You're  _not_  allowed to die. I— uh— I order you!"

The Relic of Choice ignored her. What a jerk. America smiled and patted her shoulder, careful to keep his fingers from clenching as pain wracked through his body. "Thanks for trying."

" _Focus_ , please!" Weiss shouted as she blocked a strike from an Alpha. She impaled the Grimm and landed next to America. "Where are the other Relics?"

America's mind turned to Choice and immediately hazed, trying to protect him from the pain. "I have Choice."

"I know." Weiss sounded more upset than impatient, like she was struggling not to cry. "And Matthew has Destruction. Where are Knowledge and Creation?"

Ruby, Canada, and Italy shot each other uncertain looks.

America giggled at their ignorance. "Isn't it obvious? Knowledge and Creation are right there." He ignored their startled looks and pointed at Salem's torso. "They're inside her like Choice is in me.  _Duh_."

America had to laugh at their horrified expressions.

He  _had_  to do it, otherwise he would scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Adam has violet eyes like Yang. Not the exact same shade, mind you, but close enough. Yes, I am ignoring canon again. Once again, this was planned before Volume 5, and I have no use for canon!Adam's characterization or what's underneath his mask. Not to mention it would not fit with the story I have created.
> 
> I briefly considered giving him a scar in the shape of Atlas's symbol (from her attack on him that sent him down the extremist path) but decided against it. Why should I change things in this series to make it "closer" to canon? This is its own thing.
> 
> As for why I gave him violet eyes? Simple: because he was human and giving the same eye color as Yang would make her realize that. He was not an obstacle to be overcome or a Grimm to be slain. He was a man who became lost and discarded his morals in order to— in his mind— do what he must to save his people.
> 
> This chapter was surprisingly hard to write. It took me almost a month. Probably because it's one of the biggest ones importance-wise. I hope you liked it.


	40. Fight and Flight

England's back slammed into the wall of the maze. The air left his lungs in a whoosh and failed to return, leaving him gasping soundlessly for breath as his vision darkened. A flicker of green lanced through his fading sight and the paralysis freezing his lungs released, allowing him to inhale. Wires wrapped around his waist and helped him up as Penny landed at his side. She silently kept her wires around him until he could stand on his own before letting them slip away.

In an instant she grabbed him again, yanking him aside as France hurtled towards them. France crashed into the wall with a gasp and fell in a heap at its base. Rather than rise, he laid on the floor, limbs jerking slightly as his lips turned blue. As one, Penny and England shot at Arthur Watts, only for the scientist to avoid the deadly beams with aggravating grace.

England was beginning to suspect Salem had hijacked whatever magic controlled the maze, ensuring her enemies ran into every obstacle she could summon. Grimm they could handle, so Watts was the worst by far. They had no immunity to Watts's Semblance. England's spells and France's Semblance failed to block or reflect it, leaving them gasping for air as the unaffected parties frantically diverted Watts's attention. It was not a fight so much as a scramble to yank their allies out of the metaphorical trap closing around them.

Worse, England knew Watts was playing with them. The rapt, intrigued way in which he watched the personifications struggle, like they were rats laying on a dissection table, disturbed him more than he would like to admit. Violet light rippled over his skin but Watts brought him back to his knees, vision blackening.

"I'm impressed by your resilience." Watts said with a smooth pleasantry more appropriate for a pleased teacher. "Normal humans would be unconscious by now. But you keep recovering. I eagerly await the moment I bring you to my lab."

He deftly dodged Penny's slashes, hands clasped behind his back, and the paralysis gripping England briefly released. England staggered to his feet, panting and coughing, and Watts's lips twitched.

"I can continue this as long as I wish. Or… I suppose I could end it now."

England's lungs stopped working. The blood froze in his body, turning to sludge as its movements slowed to a crawl. His knees buckled, and France fell beside him, skin ashen as it gained a blue tinge. England tried to raise his staff but his limbs did not respond to his commands, as limp as a puppet with cut strings. Footsteps clicked on the floor and shiny shoes appeared in his line of sight, behind France. England did not have the breath to spit threats, but he did not have to.

Penny appeared in a swarm of flashing metal and icy fury. Her green eyes glowed as brightly as her swords as she blasted Watts away from the nations. England sucked in a gulp of icy cold air that made his throat burn. He coughed but pushed himself up, trying to blink the black spots out of his vision. He hastily pulled France back onto his feet.

France held onto his forearm in a vice-like grip, legs quivering and skin white. England begrudgingly let France hold onto him for balance, suspecting he would fall if he let go. Penny did not assist them, though she lingered close. Her unblinking green eyes locked onto Watts with the intensity of a snake.

"Arthur Kirkland, we must change tactics." Penny stated. "I will continue to fight Watts. You must go ahead."

Every muscle in England's body froze, but this time Watts's Semblance was not the cause. "We're not leav—"

Penny silenced him with a shake of her head. "He is trying to delay us and capture you. I will not allow him to complete that mission." Her fingers twitched, clenching into fists. "I am mechanical. His Semblance cannot affect my systems. As long as you remain here, he has a target to distract me from combat. Watts  _must_  be eliminated."

"We can eliminate him together." England said sharply. "You don't have to—"

Penny turned slightly towards him, granting England a glimpse of a glowing green eye. "Go save Alfred." There was undeniable pain in her voice as she made the request.

The desire to argue abandoned England as he realized how hard it was for her to say that, and why she did. Protecting Alfred F. Jones was her mission, yet she was sending England and France in her stead. She knew she had the best chance against Watts, so she was offering to fight him while England and France continued on. She was putting Alfred's life in their hands while she terminated a threat not only to him, but the other two nations as well.

England was no stranger to regret, yet he was surprised by the twang of remorse that stabbed his heart. Penny had been his shadow since America was taken, and admittedly he had resented her, seeing her as little more than an annoyance seeking a replacement to follow around. She was not following England because she was a lost baby chick, she followed him because he was America and Canada's brother and she missed them too. England had been too caught up in his own loss to see hers. But now was not the time for apologies.

"Penny, you have another mission." England said. "Do  _not_  die."

Penny inclined her head. "As a robot, perhaps I cannot 'die'. However, I have a mission to protect Alfred F. Jones and another mission to hug Arthur Kirkland. I intend to complete them."

England could not bring himself to smile. Penny's swords whirred and beams of green light shot at Watts, forcing him back. England and France brushed past Penny and down a side path as an echoing  _boom_  sounded behind them. England gripped his staff so tightly his fingers hurt.

"Don't you bloody die, Penny." he whispered.

XXXXXXX

" _Move!_ "

The squad of soldiers scattered at Germany's shout. Next to them, a Nevermore landed on a building and the abused mixture of stone and concrete crumbled under its weight, sending smoke-like dust into the sky. The Grimm recoiled, blinded by its own destruction, and Germany shot it down. Its large body fell into the road and its head smashed through the front of another building before it could disintegrate.

An Ursa landed in front of the soldiers and one fell with a scream before the others could bring the Grimm down. Germany heard Tarleton shouting orders and the soldiers took cover, peeking out to take shots at the smaller Grimm. Swarms of the less-armored types fell in hails of bullets, but they would keep on coming as long as the Kraken Spawner lived.

Their original air support had been ordered to fall back. Their bullets bounced off the Kraken's hide, and getting too close only got them swatted out of the air and into the ocean. Instead they lingered as close as they dared, providing a tantalizing distraction to keep the Spawner Grimm focused on them instead of continuing on its journey. Rather than head down the coast to its destination, it seemed one had proven to be irritating enough that the Kraken was intent on striking them down.

That left the forces on the ground to eliminate as many Grimm as they possibly could. Barriers had been set up a few blocks around the area, but Germany knew they would not be able to contain the Grimm forever. He glanced in the direction of the Spawner and had to grimace at the tentacles that curled hundreds of meters above the skyline. He had yet to see the whole Grimm, only seeing the black appendages it stuck out of the water and occasionally its huge red eyes, eyes much bigger than the planes that distracted it.

Germany's senses tingled and he halted in place. An Alpha loomed over him but fell in a spray of black blood. He glanced towards a distance building and inclined his head, knowing Finland could see him. Finland had positioned himself above the battle, providing cover fire and taking out as many Grimm as he could spot in the streets.

_It isn't enough._

A shiver went up Germany's spine. His head snapped to the left, towards one of the many abandoned vehicles along the road. It was a small black sedan, sitting on the right side of the road as if its driver was waiting in traffic.

Germany spotted movement in the car.

" _Civilian!_ " he bellowed, already running towards the vehicle.

He heard Tarleton say something in his communicator but it was lost in the roar of an Ursa. He slayed the beast and hopped over its corpse to reach the car. A woman sat behind the wheel of the small sedan, eyes round as she observed the battle around her. Germany had to wonder how long she had been there, but guessed it had been a while.

Some might think it was bravery or foolishness, but Germany knew it was fear that kept her rooted in place. Or perhaps she thought the Grimm would not attack her if she did not move. Germany knew she was mistaken. He could only hope the Grimm continued to ignore the terrified woman a little longer—

On cue, a Griffon landed on the hood of the woman's car. Shock gave way to terror and the woman screamed, her high-pitched shrieks drawing unwanted attention straight to her. Germany saw the tires smoke as she pressed on the gas but the Griffon refused to be budged. It stabbed at the windshield, cracking it, and eliciting another scream from the woman.

Germany sliced the Griffon in half and had to wince as the woman ran its fading remains over. She did not make it far before a Beowolf slashed at her tires, sending her into a fence. The car turned in a half-circle and slammed driver's-side first into the side of a building. The damaged hood began to smoke.

Heart in his throat, Germany raced across the street. He could not get to the driver's door so he ripped the passenger's side door off, throwing it behind him and decapitating a Beowolf in the process. The woman was slumped over the steering wheel, but her chest heaved with breaths. Germany climbed into the car and touched her shoulder and her head snapped up.

"Ma'am, are you injured?" Germany asked. He tried to Americanize accent as much as possible, hoping something more familiar would help calm her down.

Instead the woman looked past him and screamed. Germany turned and stabbed a Boarbatusk through the head before turning back to the woman. She clung to the steering wheel, still screaming her head off. Germany honestly did not blame her but there was no time to calm her down

"Ma'am, we need to move." he ordered.

The woman stared at him, eyes huge and skin white, and Germany had no idea if she heard or understood him. Before he could try to grab her, talon-tipped feet landed in front of the vehicle, making the car shake. Germany caught a glimpse of a Nevermore before its beak opened. The Grimm grabbed the car in its jaws, giving Germany a clear view of its throat. It lifted the vehicle off the ground and shook it like a dog with a toy.

The woman shrieked, finally releasing the steering wheel in favor of pressing herself against her seat and clawing at her seat belt. As he smacked into the side of the car, Germany heard metal crack. He ripped the seat belt off the screaming civilian and grabbed her. He struggled into the back seat, the woman still screaming, and kicked the window out. He jumped out into open air with the woman in his arms, twisting so he would hit the ground first.

Above them, the Grimm crushed the car in its jaws and dropped the broken vehicle. Germany rolled to the side with the woman and the car hit the road instead of landing on top of them. He was not quite quick enough. He felt metal scrape against his Aura and bit back a pained grunt. The impact did little more than sting. In his arms, the woman's screams gained a pained pitch and he scanned her for injury, heart in his throat. Other than a small scrape on her forehead, she appeared unharmed.

The woman abruptly stopped screaming and gaped at Germany. Relieved, he hastily lifted her up and ran towards the soldiers. The woman clung to his neck but was otherwise passive. Germany quickened his steps, praying she had not gone into shock. Instead he felt her hand brush his arm.

"It...It hit you. I  _saw_  it hit you." She said tremulously. "But you're not hurt?" The woman stared at his masked face, wide-eyed. "Are... Are you a  _superhero_?"

Germany did not have time to answer her. He was not sure how he could. So he simply passed her off to the evac. soldiers and returned to the fight, tearing through a line of Beowolves. Prussia appeared next to him and viciously stabbed a Creep. Burning red eyes focused on Germany.

"I saw that. Holy  _shit_ , West!"

Germany ignored him. Gunfire brought his attention upward in time to see Finland dive off the building, shooting behind him as he fell. Three Alphas died in midair before Finland hit the ground. He grunted and tucked his rifle to his chest as he rolled to a halt. Germany jogged to his side.

"Are you alright?"

Finland took his offered hand and stood on noticeably shaky legs. "Could be better. Ouch."

Distant explosions sounded and the accompanying yellow flashes told Germany they came from Russia. For the nation to use his Semblance so much was not a good sign.

Germany put a hand to his communicator. "Tarleton, we need reinforcements."

" _We've got them. Even better, we got the big guns."_  He could hear a smile in the man's voice.

Before Germany could ask, a low humming sound came from above.

" _Nations, get Finland on a rooftop."_  Tarleton ordered, the smile gone.  _"The Grimm's aura is interfering with our targeting systems. Show them where to aim."_

Finland nodded sharply and loaded Fire Dust into his sniper rifle. Russia, Hungary, and Austria convened on their location. All of them looked exhausted, and Austria's shirt was torn. In the small bit of his face Germany could see through the mask, he could tell Austria's skin was ashen.

"Where?" Germany asked Finland.

The nation understood his question and scanned the surrounding buildings, pointing to one. "I'll have a clear shot there."

The six nations ran towards the coastline as the planes continued their deadly game of tag up above. Germany spotted a fire escape and yanked it down, ushering the others up it. He followed them onto the roof to find swarms of flying Grimm waiting for them.

Germany was about to order them to try a different building when he noticed the other ones were not much better. He gritted his teeth and stabbed a Griffon, throwing its corpse into its kin and bringing a couple down. Hungary deftly shot and sliced through more Grimm, back-to-back with Austria, while Russia gleefully chopped off their wings before felling them.

Once the roof was relatively clear, Germany took command. "Finland, aim for the Kraken's eye. The rest of us will cover you."

"Why an eye?" Finland questioned, already positioning himself to take aim.

"That tends to be a weak point on many Grimm. It's the best guess we have." Germany said simply.

Finland nodded sharply. Russia put a hand on his shoulder, making him tense, and raised a glowing palm.

"Let  _me_  mark the target." Russia requested.

Prussia growled.

Germany thought about it but shook his head. "Finland can use Fire Dust. We need to annoy it more than injure it. If we cause it too much pain it might retaliate violently."

Russia grinned. "Let us test that."

He sent out a ball of light, which floated serenely over above the water. A red eye appeared below it, watching it curiously, and even from a distance Germany could see the gigantic pupil shrink in response to the light. Russia detonated the light.

A warning shivered up Germany's spine and he yanked Finland down. The Kraken's scream distorted the air, shattering the glass behind the nations. A few of the buildings along the coast crumbled, and the ground below them quaked threateningly.

By the time the shaking stopped, Austria's skin had little color left. " _Don't_  do that again."

Russia shrugged remorselessly.

Germany ignored them both. "Finland can take the shot, but we need to get it to come up out of the water more."

"I've got this." Prussia declared. He stood on the edge of the building and waved his weapon. "Hey, stupid!"

Germany resisted the urge to palm his face, or smack his brother upside the head. To his shock, the water rippled and more of the Kraken's head appeared above the waves.

"There is no possible way it heard you." he accidentally said out loud.

Prussia puffed up his chest. "I'm  _awesome_. Of course it heard me."

"That is a lie. You used your Semblance on it to make it move up instead of down." Russia said blandly.

Prussia pouted. "No."

"Yes you did." Hungary chuckled.

"I did  _not_." Prussia sniffed. "I just used my amazing awesomeness to draw its attention."

Any comment Germany might have made died in his throat as the Kraken emerged from the sea. Austria gave a low, panicked wheeze as the Grimm showed itself, revealing six crimson eyes embedded in a slimy, octopus-like skull. That was, if an octopus had a mouth like a meat grinder with hundreds of thousands of teeth. Germany blocked a Beowolf before it could pounce on Austria and threw it off the side of the building.

"Finland." he said calmly.

Finland nodded sharply and took aim, lining up his scope to the Kraken's center upper eye. His finger compressed on the trigger and a flare of flame shot through the air. It hit the Kraken in its pupil and although it balked, the shot was not enough to make it scream.

It  _was_  enough to blind it as a new fighter jet flew down in front of it.

A missile emerged from the plane, shooting forward into the air as the vessel curved, flying safely away from the target. The missile gave a low shriek as it sped through the air, leaving a trail of displaced atmosphere in its wake. It went through the Grimm's eye like a knife through butter.

The Kraken did not even have time to howl before it's head exploded in a burst of black flesh and blood. Seeing the size of the explosion, Germany was glad the pilot did not miss. Around him, the lesser Grimm halted in place, limbs quivering. A few of the weaker ones fell apart like sand castles in water.

The Kraken itself slipped below the surface of the ocean as it disintegrated into ashes.

XXXXXXX

Pyrrha held her breath as she scanned the sky, searching not only for Grimm but for Sterlyn's airship. Her team was crouched in the midst of some rubble, using Ren's Semblance to mask their presences and shooting any Grimm that came close. Once Sterlyn appeared, Jaune and Ren would switch to shielding him… hopefully. Ren was no confident he could use his Semblance through the air. She spotted a distant speck that was flying in a straight line and pointed at it.

"There."

Ren glowed white and closed his eyes, one hand outstretched towards the airship. Nothing seemed to change on the lonely vessel and Pyrrha chewed on her lip, desperately searching for a sign Ren was shielding the vessel. The airship did not have any weapons, but they had no vessels to call on other than Sterlyn's. They  _needed_  him for their plan to work.

Ren's brow crinkled. "I don't feel the ship or Sterlyn—"

A swarm of black dove towards the single airship. Winter slashed her sword and a series of glyphs appeared in the air, deflecting most of the Grimm. Sterlyn pulled the ship into a spiral, deflecting more Grimm or flinging them off, but a Griffon clung to the side with its talons. It tore through the side of the ship, leaving claw marks in its wake as it was flung through the air.

Sterlyn turned the vessel and Pyrrha's breath caught as she realized he was flying directly towards the tower. He pulled up at the last second, leaving many of his pursuers to slam into the side of the derelict building.

"Go Sterlyn!" Nora shouted, pumping a fist.

Pyrrha was tempted to cheer with her as the pilot skillfully avoided more Grimm, using the environment and his airship's speed to his advantage.

Then a large splat of ooze landed on top of the building, right below his ship. Pyrrha's warning scream caught in her throat as a Nevermore pulled itself out of the puddle and slammed into the bottom of the airship. The airship jolted to the side, spinning horizontally, and went down. Smoke billowed from the craft and it plunged towards the ground.

Pyrrha did not have to ask Jaune before his Aura surrounded her. Strength coursed through her veins and she grabbed onto the airship, just enough to slow it down. Carefully and gradually, she slowed its speed more and more, until it no longer fell but hovered, in her hold. Pyrrha's muscles trembled and burned as she carefully lowered the airship to the ground and set it down.

It landed with an anticlimactic thud. Pyrrha nearly collapsed with it, breathing heavily. Before she could make herself move, the door opened and Sterlyn staggered out. Nora raced up and grabbed him, yanking him away from the smoking vessel. Pyrrha held her breath but the Dust inside the airship did not ignite and send them sky high.

Next to her, Jaune collapsed as white flared over his skin. Pyrrha was at his side in an instant, throat closed in panic, but he patted her arm weakly even as his chest heaved.

"Semblance." Jaune panted, brow covered by sweat. "Used all my Aura. Boosted you. Saved Sterlyn."

"Thanks." Sterlyn said faintly, voice hoarse with a slight wheezing tone. "I smashed into the console pretty hard."

Pyrrha noticed a darkening bruise that was just visible on the pilot's collar bone and repressed a wince, suspecting the bone may be broken. Ren gritted his teeth and lowered himself into a crouch. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead and Pyrrha realized he was still using his Semblance on them. A shudder passed through his lithe frame and Pyrrha wondered just how much Aura he was using.

Nora followed her gaze and her lips thinned. "Jaune, no pressure but you  _need_  to regenerate your Aura."

Jaune grunted. His skin had a sickly green tinge. Splatters of black fell from the sky and more and more Grimm clambered out of the pools around them, covering Beacon's grounds with a layer of black. Pyrrha inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to keep herself calm so there was less strain on Ren. Hopefully. Ren's eyes were squeezed shut in concentration.

"I can hold out by myself a bit longer." Ren said, tone clipped and strained. "The Dust?"

Sterlyn pushed Nora away and limped back into the airship. He popped his head out. "The Dust is fine but the airship isn't going anywhere."

Nora groaned in frustration. "What do we do? We need that airship to get enough Dust inside the Dragon and Pyrrha can't lift it without autopilot and Jaune helping."

"I can try to guide it." Pyrrha said, sounding more confident than she felt. She eyed the airship, trying to get a sense of its weight, and realized it was much heavier than the clock gears she struggled to throw. "Winter, can you help lift it with your glyphs?"

Winter grimaced. "Not without the risk of igniting the Dust."

Above them, the Grimm Dragon shrieked, dropping dozens more Grimm onto the grounds. Pyrrha looked from face to exhausted face and her heart sank into her shoes as she realized they were fighting a losing battle. The Grimm's numbers were growing by the second, and there were only six of them.

_We need help. We can't do this alone._

Like her thoughts had summoned a miracle, her prayer was answered.

Pyrrha spotted a pale dot in the sky, flying steadily closer as it fired at the Grimm in its way. A few shots sent the Grimm Dragon on the retreat, roaring in annoyance as gunfire peppered its side. Before her mind could register what she was seeing, it landed in front of her team, propellers whirring as it hovered a few inches above the ground.

It was another airship.

An  _Atlesian_  airship.

Pyrrha watched, mouth agape, as figures jumped from the vessel. Some were clothed in armor, but most wore individual ensembles, complete with a variety of weapons. Many took one look at the Grimm and descended upon them, some with the elated whoops of fresh combatants. Among the swarm of colors, Pyrrha recognized a few teams from Haven and a head of blue hair.

" _Neptune_?" Jaune gasped.

The blue-haired member of Team SSSN caught sight of Jaune and beamed, running up to him. "Hey! It's been a while." he glanced nervously at the circling Dragon and whistled lowly. "I heard the Dragon was big, but I didn't think it was  _that_  big."

"Didn't you see it when it broke out of the mountain?" Nora asked.

Neptune shrugged. "Yeah. In the distance. When it was  _way_  up in the sky."

" _How_  are you here?" Pyrrha blurted.

Neptune shot her a startled look but soon turned it into a grin. He jabbed a thumb at the Atlas soldiers running around them. "Got a ride from these guys. They've been going around gathering as many Huntsmen as they can find. More airships are coming in." Neptune noticed their expressions and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry; they're cool."

An idea struck Pyrrha. "Are they from Frontier?"

Neptune nodded. "That's what they said."

Team JNPR relaxed.

Neptune looked around, scanning the area. His smile remained but Pyrrha thought it looked a little more worried. He laughed awkwardly and scratched the side of his head.

"So, uh. Where are Sun and Team RWBY? Are they in the city?"

Pyrrha could not force herself to look at him. "Ruby and Weiss are in Beacon. Yang is… somewhere in Vale."

Neptune's smile faltered. "Where's Sun?"

"He's... alive." Pyrrha said vaguely.

The blank look on Neptune's face chilled her to the core.

Winter pushed between them, expression hard. "Enough chitchat. Who is the Atlas commander? I wish to speak with him."

Neptune shook himself and hesitated. "Well..."

Another familiar, proud figure emerged from the airship. Winter tensed, muscles taut and quivering.

Pyrrha stepped closer to Jaune, weapon gripped in her hand and shield raised. "General Ironwood?"

Ironwood barely spared her a glance. His gaze remained focused on the Grimm Dragon. "I'm  _not_  a General." he stated. "Not anymore." Blue eyes locked onto Jaune. "What's your plan?"

There was so much Pyrrha wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask. She wanted to demand to know what he was doing, why he had come here, and how these Huntsmen could trust him after what he had done.

But now was not the time.

Pyrrha's shoulders straightened as she stepped between Ironwood and Jaune. "Sir, we need your airship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just finished writing the final chapter of this? Me! *happy dance*
> 
> Looking back, last week's chapter really held up my progress. Like I said, it took me almost a month to write. But now I'm done. I did it! _Squeeeeeeeeeee!_
> 
> Now… To keep up with the weekly Friday updates, or to throw the last chapters at you whenever I want? That is the question. (This upload is the answer. :P )
> 
> See you soon! (Friday at the latest.)


	41. Your Biggest Mistake

Wood shuddered under the force of heavy blows. Glass panes cracked under the pressure of clawed paws. Snarls, growls, and shrieks echoed through the halls of the mansion, and sweat trickled down Iceland's brow. A gorilla-like hand punched through a window, clawing at the inside, and his knife skittered off its skin instead of piercing it. That was all it took for their defenses to fail as a Beringel broke through the window, landing in the foyer.

Copper brought it down but it was too late. Grimm jumped through the opening one or two at a time, swarming into the mansion like a flood. Iceland could only be glad they had sealed up the doors to the other rooms, and hope no Grimm had managed to enter elsewhere. The security doors should hold them back, but not indefinitely.

"Don't let them further in." Sealand commanded.

"We  _know_." Wy snapped.

A Beowolf lunged for Seborga but Molossia sent it flying through another window. More Grimm flooded in and there was no more time for orders. Iceland ducked beneath a Boarbatusk's horns and sliced it in half. Its decaying body hit a wall, leaving a noticeable dent. Iceland rolled under a Beowolf's claws and stabbed it in the throat, retreating hastily.

"Keep together." Molossia ordered. His bat bashed an Ursa's skull in. "Don't let them separate us."

The young personifications and soldier clambered together. Iceland found himself back-to-back with Molossia as the sea of black swarmed around them. He spotted a flash of pink in the horde and his heart stuttered.

Taiwan was pinned against a security door, swinging her spear wildly at any Grimm that stepped close. Her eyes locked with Iceland and a slither of fear entered her gaze. Before Iceland could act, Uni broke away from the group, charging the Grimm with an angry shriek.

Taiwan watched her approach and her spear lowered, only to jolt up again to impale a Creep. Another window shattered and an Alpha clambered through, clinging to the wall above Taiwan. Iceland realized too late it was going to drop on her.

Uni gave an unsettling screech and plowed through the Grimm, tossing them aside like they weighed nothing. She jumped and caught the Alpha in midair with her broken horn, impaling it through the chest. A thrash of her head sent its corpse into its kin. The Grimm scattered and Uni landed next to Taiwan. Her gaze focused on the "floating" bow in front of her and she reached out.

"Uni?"

The unicorn nudged her with her head and ducked under her, plopping her unceremoniously onto her back. Taiwan seemed to realize what Uni intended and got into a riding position. Uni immediately dashed back towards the others.

Taiwan rode on the unicorn's back, a makeshift spear in one hand and a pan in the other. She bashed a Creep's head to black pulp and stabbed an Ursa through the eye, yanking her weapon free. Uni reared onto her back hooves and kicked a Beowolf in the spine, snapping its back. She grabbed another by the scruff and shook it, and Iceland made a mental note to watch out for her teeth from now on.

"Poland is going to be jealous." Hong Kong muttered.

He calmly settled behind Macau's defensive stance and set up a firework, aiming it at a group of Grimm. The whistle and explosion made Iceland's head pound. He stabbed a Beowolf and did not reply as Uni took a flying leap, landing in the middle of the group.

"Great. We're all here.  _Now what?_ " Seborga asked.

"We just need to keep them away a little longer." Macau said. He glanced to the left.

Iceland frowned.

Sealand tipped his head. "Why are you looking that way? The lab is—"

" _Hush_." Wy hissed. "They don't know that."

Sealand paused. His blue eyes widened. "They can understand u—?"

It happened too quickly for Iceland to react.

One second, Sealand was talking.

The next, an Alpha had grabbed him around the waist and yanked him out of the group.

Iceland lunged but Copper reached him first. He shot the Alpha and grabbed Sealand, turning back towards the group. A Beringel grabbed them both and threw them into the security door. The sound of flesh hitting metal made the hairs on Iceland's nape stand on end. He watched wordlessly as Copper's Aura vanished in a flare of light.

Copper's weapon clattered to the floor, and was kicked into the throng by black paws. Sealand stayed in his arms, eyes round with shock rather than pain, and Iceland realized Copper had taken the brunt of the hit. Copper stumbled to his feet— Sealand still in his arms— and staggered towards the group. An Alpha loomed over them but Taiwan's spear appeared in its neck. She readied her pan.

"Hurry!"

Sealand flinched in Copper's arms, wiggling on instinct with a protest on his lips—

Iceland saw an Ursa loom over them both.

Copper must have seen it too, for his shifted just a bit to the left—

Claws sank into Copper's back, slashing him from right shoulder to opposite hip.

The Atlas soldier faltered and collapsed onto Sealand, skin going white with shock as blood blossomed across his back. Sealand's scream would haunt Iceland for decades to come. He darted forward with Molossia at his side and grabbed Copper, while Molossia dragged the screaming Sealand back into the circle. Hong Kong joined Iceland and together they pulled Copper in the middle of the group. Sealand shoved Molossia away and knelt beside Copper, hands twitching uselessly before he pressed them against the wound.

"What were you  _thinking_?" Sealand cried. "I would have survived that."

Copper coughed wetly, spitting up globs of blood, and Iceland knew he wasn't going to make it. The soldier seemed to see that too, yet he laid quietly without even attempting to explain or save himself. He did not appear to notice Sealand's screams as the miconation continued to cry out, rambling a series of words that did not seem to be English or any language at all.

Too quickly, the light in Copper's eyes faded and he went limp. Molossia grabbed his weapon and fired at a Beringel that tried to swipe at Sealand. The micronation seemed ignorant to the danger and sat by Copper, staring at his body. Blue eyes slowly looked up, seeking guidance, but only found Iceland.

"Why did he do that?" Sealand asked, sounding as young as he looked.

_Because it was instinct. Because you could have been infected for all we know. Because he was a spy and he realized there would be no happy ending for him. Because you are a child. Because he was not going home. Because he considered Finland a friend._   _Just… because he could._

Iceland said none of those things. Instead he shoved Sealand into an easily-defended corner and took position in front of him, stabbing any Grimm that came close. It was all he— all  _any_  of them— could do.

"Hurry  _up_ , big brother..." Iceland whispered.

XXXXXXX

The fight against Arthur Watts was not proceeding as Penny planned. Combat was— by nature— rather unpredictable, but Penny's algorithms were equipped to calculate the probability of success in most conflict situations. This situation defied every one of her predictions, mostly due to the fact that Watts was a much better fighter than scans indicated. He was fast and agile and hit with more force than his lithe build suggested he was capable of.

Penny's right arm had been damaged at the bicep by one of his strikes, her metal endoskeleton dented but not broken. She could still use the limb at eighty-five percent capacity, but it would soon drop to sixty-two percent if she was struck by a similar blow. Her chances of success in this mission was less than she anticipated, hovering at the sixty percent mark when she had deduced it to be at seventy percent. Her preconception had not been twenty percent lower than her anticipated amount due to an unexpected element in the battle.

She was not alone.

Penny could not discern as to why Hazel Rainart was assisting her. It made no logical sense yet the man was at her side, having announced his presence by punching Watts into a wall. Unlike her, he knew Arthur Watts's fighting style. Like her, he seemed to have immunity to Watts's Semblance.

Hazel Rainart froze mid-step before taking a swing at Watts and Penny edited her previous statement. He had resistance to Watts's Semblance, but not immunity. The distinction was noted in her database.

"I always knew your bleeding heart would make you squeamish." Watts said. His eyes glinted with what Penny identified as 'malice'. "How long will it take for your Aura to run out and allow you to feel pain?"

Hazel said nothing. Penny could see the benefit of a lack of response, which would prevent the enemy from learning anything and conserve breath. Hazel dashed in as beams of green light flared from the swords still connected to her body, dancing around her tentative ally. Watts dodged the beams but backed into the wall with a low grunt. Hazel landed in front of him and swung, but Watts leaned out of the way, raising his glowing hand, and Hazel faltered. Penny dove between them and sent a flurry of swords at Watts.

There was a flicker of light glinting off metal and Penny's swords slammed into the ground instead of her enemy. Watts raised his weapon— an elegant rapier with tubes embedded in its blade, each connected to an injection mechanism — and brought it down to his side with cultured poise. Using available data, Penny surmised that Watts's Aura was low, which was why he was pulling out his weapon rather than relying on his Semblance. Penny's systems made a connection between the weapon and Weiss Schnee's but dismissed it. There was no causality between Weiss Schnee and this meatbag other than the baseline of their weapons.

Watts studied his weapon for a moment as if he were displeased by its mere presence and his lip curled. "What a nuisance. I will have to dismantle you before taking you to my lab."

"That mission is ill-advised." Penny said promptly. "I suggest you discard it."

Penny propelled herself past Watts, sword out, and her blade rammed into his neck. He choked, breath catching in his throat, and Penny's systems connected this moment to the definition of 'karma'. Penny sensed movement behind her and shifted aside, allowing Hazel's strike to catch Watts right in the stomach. Watts slammed into the wall with a grunt. Energy comparable to electricity flared over his body and his body smoked as it fell back to the ground.

Penny studied his vitals and noticed they were low. She crept closer, swords raised and twitching, and Watts's eyes snapped open as he lunged for her. Penny blasted herself backwards and up, twisting in the air, and her foot slammed into the side of Watts's head. He recovered quickly but she blocked his upward cut with her swords and landed on her feet. She dodged Watts's stab and backflipped, launching herself upward off her hands, and threw two swords down next to Watts.

She altered the mechanism in the blades and the Dust inside the swords exploded. Watts grunted, raising his arms to shield his eyes. She darted in and swung her sword but Watts hooked the blade in his weapon, yanking it aside. Penny tried to free her weapon but realized her error too late. Watts's fist caught her in the jaw in a blow that would have snapped a human's neck.

Penny staggered back as error messages flashed through her systems and something in her neck area sparked. A notification for her Aura Moderation Module popped up, requesting she release her Aura to better defend her body, but she deleted it. It immediately reappeared again.

_Activate Aura Moderation Module? Y/N?_

_N._

Watts fired at her feet, and the explosion of dust and shrapnel glitched her sensors, leaving her vision blue. Something heavy landed in front of her and she heard Hazel grunt. Her vision cleared to see Watts's rapier sticking through Hazel's side. The rapier was torn free and Hazel fell to his knees, skin paling rapidly.

Penny slashed at Watts to force him away and stood in front of her ally, taking a moment to scan his injury. The tear in his shirt revealed a deep puncture wound, wide and dripping red, along with five smaller puncture wounds from the needles that surrounded the blade.

Watts's smile was nearly hidden by his mustache. "It has been a long time since I was forced to use my weapon. If you do not mind, could you please tell me how long it takes for my concoctions to take affect?"

Hazel shuddered and spat up a glob of blood.

Penny fired at Watts but he deflected the shots with ease. Hazel raised his fists and struck the ground, sending out a thunderous shockwave. Watts kept his footing and strode forward purposely, flicking his weapon to clear it of some of Hazel's blood. His weapon flicked up and he fired at Penny, but she blocked the shots with her swords.

She split her blades and Watts was in front of her. She jerked to the side but his stab caught her cheek, tearing through the synthetic skin. Errors flashed and Penny's systems glitched, her robotic muscles locking for a brief millisecond. The next strike sent her to the ground and Watts's foot slammed down on her ribcage.

Metal creaked and warnings screamed through her systems. Penny clenched her teeth, struggling to keep her head from twitching as her head sparked. Memories of her encounter with Salem moved to her current processes but she filed it away, glaring up at Watts. Watts raised the weapon but Hazel slammed into his side, sending them both to the floor.

Under most circumstances, the fight would be over, but Hazel was weakened by the drugs coursing through his veins. Penny's optics zeroed in on the blood dripping from his orifices— mouth, nose, eyes, ears— and something in her chest constricted. She forced herself up, limbs quivering and twitching as Watts shoved Hazel away, raising his weapon—

The shot went through Hazel Rainart's chest, leaving a smoking hole four point two-five inches left of his heart. His strides wavered and he stared at the hole in shock. Then he crumpled.

Watts watched him fall and lowered his rapier with a sigh. "Such a shame. I was looking forward to testing your Semblance."

Penny did not hesitate. She sent four swords shooting ahead of her, one slightly after the other three. Watts dodged the first three but the last sword caught the edge of his coat, sending him reeling as it pinned him to the ground. She grabbed Hazel Rainart and stabbed her weapons into the wall behind them. She pulled herself and Hazel back, ignoring the messages that warned her of excess weight, and landed beside her lodged weapons, sliding back a few more feet.

Penny brought her attached blades back to her, letting them hover by her shoulders. Error messages flashed across her screens but she dismissed them, including the one that said her lasers were offline. She was aware she had taken damage. Her sparking torso and arm were evidence enough.

_Activate Aura Moderation Module? Y/N?_

_N._

Watts watched her with an emotion she easily identified as 'amusement'. It was not the joyful amusement Alfred showed when Matthew hissed upon being woken, or the gentle amusement Matthew displayed when Penny misunderstood a pun or figure of speech. This amusement was malicious, and came from a desire to see others hurt and suffering.

"Why do you pretend to care for him?" Watts questioned. "Do your logic processors see his survival as beneficial, hmm?"

Logic told Penny not to waste time engaging in useless conversation, but she dismissed it. "Hazel Rainart has assisted me. It would be wrong to let him die."

Watts's lips twitched and he laughed. Even his laugh had the malicious amusement of someone looking at an insect with scorn. "What an intriguing creature you are! You, a  _robot_ , have managed to delude yourself into believing you are human. You believe you have a soul."

"I  _have_  a soul." Penny stated. Her vision glitched, doubling momentarily, and she struggled to troubleshoot the problem. More and more system errors crowded her processors, slowing them down as her body shuddered.

Watts still looked  _amused_. "Foolish robot. Those 'emotions' you feel are not real. They are mere fabrications that you have adopted from your more advanced predecessor. You are nothing but a puppet. Worse, you are a  _copy_  of a puppet. But I suppose with the original in pieces, the substitute will suffice."

The words made Penny's core hot. Not from overexertion. Not in the physical sense. It was similar to the cold in her core when she was 'sad'. Not 'sad'.  _Sad_ , because her emotions were  _real_. And this 'hot' feeling was another emotion, one she felt when she reactivated and was told Ozpin tried to kill Alfred F. Jones. One of her systems beeped, and a popup appeared in her HUD.

_Activate Aura Moderation Module? Y/N?_

Penny hesitated. Her vision glitched. Her body sparked. Hazel Rainart was still and silent behind her.

Alfred F. Jones was somewhere in this maze, and he needed her help.

He needed her to  _win_.

He…

_He believes I am real._

Penny took her hesitation and deleted it.

"I am not a substitute." she stated. "I am not a puppet. I am  _Penny_. And I am a real girl."

Penny clicked accept.

Energy rushed through her and all her systems re-calibrated as the damage they received was undone. Blue Aura flared over her synthetic skin, sliding down her arms as it gathered in her palms. It rippled between her hands, shimmering like a circle of light before it condensed into a miniature blue sun. Penny's systems noted the heat from the sphere but it did not harm her. It would never harm her. This was  _her_  Aura, after all.

Watts's eyes widened and he stepped back, surprise painted on his face, but he did not flee.

That was his error in judgment.

Penny raised her hand and the ball of Aura exploded outward into a blue beam.

Her Aura-laser tore through Watts's chest, vaporizing his heart.

XXXXXXX

Yang could not make it to Beacon. She tried. By the Gods she  _tried_. But trying to get to the school was as possible as swimming through an active volcano. Even the combined might of her, Taiyang, Jett, Lovino, Russel, Team CFVY, Neon, Flynt, Professor Goodwitch, Oobleck, and Oscar were not enough to break through the horde.

The clash of weapons and roars of Grimm echoed around her, so loud and relentless she could barely hear her own thoughts. The civilians had all been evacuated— the ones that could be found, anyway— and the once-proud city of Vale had turned from a thriving capital into a desolate, broken hive of Grimm. The Grimm far outnumbered the Huntsmen and Huntresses, and although Yang did not want to think they were losing, they were not winning either. All they could do was try to hold out as long as they could.

_Has Ruby made it to Beacon yet?_

Yang punched an Ursa through a fire hydrant and cringed as water spray into the air, soaking her through. She ignored her drenched hair and looked to the sky, where the Grimm Dragon's huge shadow was just visible among the swarm of Grimm. She should be there. She knew that now. But it was too late to go back and change her decisions.

An Alpha slammed into her side, pinning her to the ground. She caught a glimpse of sharp teeth before its skull exploded in a burst of gore. She pushed the decaying body off her and sat up, breathing heavily. A twinge of pain went through her chest and she winced, struggling back onto her feet. Oscar eyed her worriedly, fingers white and trembling around the handle of his cane.

"I'm fine." Yang said briskly. "Keep fighting."

Oscar looked unconvinced but went back-to-back with her, staff raised. Abruptly he flinched, curling in on himself, and his mouth opened in a pained 'o'. He fell to one knee, hand white-knuckled on his cane. Yang knocked an Ursa away from him and crouched next to the hunched-over boy.

"Hey. What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Oscar raised his head, and golden eyes flicked to hazel.

"I'm sorry Ms. Xiao-Long." Ozpin said faintly. "I believe I'm out of time."

XXXXXXX

Was it day or night? As Pyrrha impaled yet another Beowolf, another Ursa, another Creep, she could not tell. The sky writhed, dark and angry as more and more Grimm joined the ever-growing swarm. The Huntsmen and soldiers had forsaken chasing down Grimm in favor of defending the airship as a few loaded it with Dust.

The thunderous crescendo of gunfire barely muffled the roars of the Grimm Dragon and Pyrrha wondered if this was hell. She shot another Beowolf and her rifle clicked. She threw her javelin into a Grimm's gaping maw and summoned it back to her hand. Jaune blocked a Beowolf and sliced it in half. His jaw was clenched up, quivering with tension, and Pyrrha could only hope his Aura would regenerate in time. Soon the sky would be too covered to even see the Dragon.

A Huntsman was snatched up by a Nevermore and yanked into the air, screaming. Ren's shot missed and the Nevermore vanished into the throng with it's prize. Ren's eyes closed in grief but there was no time to comfort him.

" _Arc!_ " Ironwood snapped as he bludgeoned an Ursa. "Semblance?"

Jaune gritted his teeth and shook his head. "I haven't recovered enough Aura yet. I'm trying to block the hits with my shield but—"

He raised his shield with a grunt and shoved the Alpha away. A swipe from his sword beheaded it. Pyrrha subconsciously stepped closer to him and stabbed an Ursa through the eye. Another clambered over its fallen kin but Winter slashed it to shreds with her sword. Her icy gaze scanned the crowd of Grimm and she grimaced.

"This plan isn't going to work. Jaune does not have enough Aura and even if he did, Pyrrha would not be able to control the airship enough to avoid the Grimm. Once the Grimm see what we're doing they'll swarm the airship before it can reach the Grimm Dragon."

Pyrrha opened her mouth to protest but was forced to shove back another Alpha. It dodged to the left and grabbed a soldier, dragging him by his leg. Nora stepped forward with a roar and bashed its skull in. She grabbed the man by his shoulders and pulled him back into their protective circle. The soldier moaned lowly and Sterlyn and another soldier rushed to his side. Pyrrha prayed he was a medic. An explosion froze the blood in her veins but it was not from the airship, but from somewhere in the city. More black smoke joined the black sea of Grimm above.

Ironwood's stern face settled into a grimace and he closed his eyes. "Someone needs to pilot the airship."

" _What?!_ " Jaune shouted.

Ironwood did not spare him a glance as he fired into the Grimm. "Winter is correct. We cannot rely on your Semblance or Pyrrha's. This flight needs human precision."

Sterlyn looked up from the soldier. His skin was pale. "I—"

" _No_." Jaune snapped. "No one needs to pilot the airship."

"Sir!" A technician emerged from the airship. "Sir, another airship is coming through."

" _What_? Are they crazy?" Neptune spluttered.

"They're not landing." the technician clarified quickly. "They're just dropping someone off. I told them the plan and he says he can help."

Ironwood nodded sharply. "Men, keep the Grimm focused on the ground."

The soldiers rushed around them and aimed their rifles at the sky. Flares of different-colored Dust tore through the mass and thousands of red eyes sought out the source. The distant roar of an airship reached Pyrrha's ears before it quickly faded. She looked up, and a single speck of golden light appeared in the sea of Grimm. It split into three and her mouth dropped open.

Neptune gave a half-laugh, half-gasp. "Why am I not surprised?"

Pyrrha did not respond, wide-eyed as Sun's clones twisted around him, launching off each other and the Grimm as they guided Sun down. One was hit by a Griffon and exploded into golden dust, but the other two remained, kicking and punching Grimm away from Sun as he fell. It was like watching a complex airshow, and Pyrrha was not certain whether to be impressed or question if Sun was showing off. He landed lightly in front of them, clones vanishing as he straightened and gave a casual wave.

"Hey. Sorry my ride couldn't stick around. They're headed to the city." Seeing their stunned expressions, Sun winked. "You didn't think you could save the world without  _me_ , did you?"

"We hoped." Nora teased.

"Welcome back." Ren greeted him warmly.

Pyrrha was too stunned to do the same. " _How_?"

Sun knew what she meant. He shrugged. "I don't know what happened. The rest of my Aura just came back to me and I woke up. Found out a group of Huntsmen were headed here." He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the airship. "I snuck onboard. Yang's uncle helped."

"You said you can help?" Winter interrupted.

"With blowing up the Grimm Dragon?" Sun grinned. "Yep. So what's the plan?"

"We need a way to distract the other Grimm while the airship approaches the Grimm Dragon." Ironwood stated.

Jaune flinched. "No one needs to—"

Ironwood silenced him with a sharp glare. "We have one chance to make this work, Mister Arc. We cannot leave our success to Ms. Nikos's ability to move a few-ton metal vessel from hundreds of meters away, or Mr. Wukong's easily-destructible light clones."

Jaune went silent, jaw clenched and quivering.

Sterlyn took a breath and stepped forward. "I'll—"

Ironwood silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. "No. You're not dying today." His blue eyes scanned the teens and soldiers in front of him. "None of you are."

The technician gasped lowly. Pyrrha was not sure she had ever heard a soldier make such a human sound before. "Sir—"

"General, you  _can't_." Winter interrupted.

"Are you trying to order me around, Specialist?" Ironwood said quietly, but Pyrrha knew he was not angry. His gaze remained sharp. "I will not ask anyone else to do this."

His gaze remained sharp, and Pyrrha knew that he would not be convinced otherwise no matter what was said. Winter seemed to realize this too. She lowered her head without a word, jaw clenched and trembling. If Sun was affected by the topic of conversation, he did not show it. Glancing at him, Pyrrha thought she saw understanding in his eyes.

"So… you need cover?" Sun grimaced, nose wrinkled unhappily. "Eh. I suppose I'd have to use it eventually."

Pyrrha eyed him warily. "Use what?"

Sun grinned at her. "My Semblance. My  _other_  Semblance. It can help provide some cover and take out some Grimm. But it's not as fun, you know?"

"We're not here for 'fun'." Winter said tersely.

" _Other_  Semblance?" Neptune asked.

Sun winced and clapped his partner on the shoulder. "We can talk later."

"You're Vacuo." Ironwood stated.

Sun smiled, but his grin was as sharp as knives. "Yes."

Ironwood studied him a moment before he inclined his head. "I'm glad you are alive."

Sun blinked, visibly startled. "Thanks?"

Ironwood looked to his men. "Let's move."

The technician dove into the airship and ran back out with the rest of the soldiers. Ironwood strode into the vessel, no hesitation in his steps, and a heavy lump settled in Pyrrha's throat. The airship turned on with a roar and hovered a couple feet off the ground. Pyrrha forced her gaze away from it, looking at Sun. She saw his age in his expression as he gazed at the airship before he exhaled, looking away.

"Give me a sec." He cracked his knuckles and his neck, taking a firm stance with one hand clenched at his side while the other was positioned slightly in front of him. "I don't know if it always said something about me or was a sign of things to come." Sun raised his hand and paused. "Uh, you're not going to be mad if I wreck Beacon, right? Because it's kinda  _already_  wrecked and—"

"Just do it already!" Nora shouted as she smashed a Beowolf's skull in.

Sun rolled his eyes but complied, focusing on the area below his hand. Pyrrha followed his gaze and her jaw dropped. Beneath Sun's palm, grains of sand appeared, swirling like a tornado. The tiny sandstorm rapidly grew bigger, spreading out like a hurricane. The atmosphere warmed and grew heavier, making Pyrrha's skin hot and prickly. A wind picked up, sharp and whistling, and more flecks of sand appeared out of thin air. Soon Pyrrha lost sight of the edge of the storm, but saw the damage it left in its wake.

The sandstorm tore through Beacon's grounds, uprooting stone and plucking Griffons and Nevermore out of the air and sending them crashing into buildings and the ground. The Grimm on the earth fared little better. Those that were not blown away tried to dig their claws into the ground, only to be torn from their perches. The wind ripped at Pyrrha's hair and sand stung her eyes but the sandstorm swirled harmlessly around her and the other humans like they were in a bubble of air.

Sun—  _Vacuo_ — grinned at her, irises glowing the color of the sun. "Pretty wild, right?"

Pyrrha was distracted from answering as a familiar whir of an engine pierced the air. She watched the airship lift off, its ascent covered but unhindered by the sandstorm. It flew fearlessly towards the Grimm Dragon, its path illuminated by the glow of Dust that powered it. The Dragon spotted the small airship and hovered in place, jaws going wide as it spotted its next meal. Like a hawk spotting a rabbit it swooped in, mouth snapping shut around the airship.

The airship and its supply of Dust exploded inside the Grimm. The explosion tore it open from jaw to stomach, leaving a gaping hole behind. Black ooze splattered to the ground but no Grimm emerged from it. The Grimm Dragon's wings closed and it fell like a rock. It slammed into the courtyard, leaving a ditch of displaced stone and dirt in its wake. It's wings twitched, and its red eyes grew wild with pain-fueled madness, but Pyrrha was already moving.

She raised Miló, aimed, and threw.

Her javelin went through its skull. The Dragon gave one final shriek and went limp as the light faded from its cruel red eyes. Pyrrha yanked her weapon free and watched the Grimm Dragon slowly turn to dust, falling apart piece by piece from the limbs inward. The last thing to fade was its masked head, which was blown away by the wind.

There was nothing left of the airship.

Or its pilot.

Jaune ran to the site anyway, scanning the empty courtyard for any sign of Ironwood. His entire body trembled, and he seemed ignorant to the Beowolf that Ren stabbed before it could reach him. Winter halted beside him, silently shaking her head with her mouth in a small 'o', and abruptly turned away. She blasted a Griffon through a wall with a resounding crash but again, Jaune seemed oblivious.

"We could have figured something else out." He whispered. "We… We could have..." Wide blue eyes looked at Pyrrha, brimming with tears. "No one had to— He  _didn't_  have to—"

Pyrrha gathered Jaune into her arms and hugged him gently. "I don't think he could picture life after the war ended." she said quietly.

Jaune silently squeezed her hand, and together they watched the weakest Dragon-created Grimm fade into ashes.

XXXXXXX

"The Relics are  _where_?"

Ruby's squeak was almost lost among the roar of Grimm. Alfred burned the Grimm to ashes in a flare of flames— since when was his fire blue? Canada tore through another swarm with spikes of ice, while Weiss slashed them apart with her Knight. Alfred seemed ignorant to the chaos as he hummed to himself, gazing vacantly in Salem's general direction.

"I said they're in Salem's torso. She's not human-ish like me so she's not bothered by the Relics being in there." Alfred pouted. "That's not fair."

Ruby looked at Salem and noticed a faint glow in her chest area. Her gorge rose and she almost gagged as she sliced a Beowolf apart. Alfred seemed to notice her reaction and stared at her. Ruby wondered if he knew his sky blue eyes were surrounded by glowing golden sclera. And that he was not blinking. At all. It was kind of creepy. Scratch that, it was  _very_  creepy. He glanced sidelong at Matthew and leaned forward to whisper in Ruby's ear.

"I really want to scream right now." Alfred said conversationally. His tone remained bubbly but there was an undeniable strain to it that showed he was not joking. He swayed out of the way of a Creep's lunge with a disturbing, alien grace and straightened with a smile. "Who wants to stab Salem?"

Matthew impaled a Beowolf and raised his sword, which Ruby belatedly realized was the Relic of Destruction. "If the Relics are in there, then we'll remove them."

Alfred nodded with that same, mad cheerfulness. "That's what I said. Stabby stab.  _Ow_."

He curled up and straightened abruptly, grabbing Ruby and yanking her aside. A pulse of black energy shattered the stone below her, leaving a dusty crater.

Weiss's summon slashed at Salem but she grabbed its sword, clenching her fingers. The summon shattered like glass and Weiss fell to her knees, gasping lowly. Ruby grabbed her partner and shot back to the twins, cringing as Grimm descended on Weiss's previous position. Weiss leaned on her and continued to pant, forehead beaded with sweat.

Feliciano screamed and hugged the girls, and an Alpha went through them claws first. Matthew beheaded it and kicked another in the jaw, grinning as its neck snapped. He grinned wider as Weiss impaled a Beringel through the chest.

"Nice one." He growled, voice slightly guttural.

If Weiss was disturbed by Matthew's bloodthirsty attitude, she showed no sign. "Thanks."

Shadows danced around them and Weiss grabbed Matthew, launching them both out of the darkness before it could pin them down. She landed back beside Ruby and deflected a strike with her glyph. Salem's body shifted and fire roared from her palm. Alfred swiped at the air and the flames split around them, catching the stone alight. Ruby felt the heat and flinched, backing away, and Alfred's lips dipped into a slight frown. A wave of his hand extinguished the fire and he smiled at Salem.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Weiss shot him an exasperated look. "You just had to say—"

A Nevermore struck her talons-first, pinning her to the ground. Feliciano dove in, grasping her hand, and yanked her through its claws. Its beak impaled the stone and got caught, and Ruby launched herself upward, slicing its head off. A Griffon slammed into her side and she toppled, caught off guard, before she shot it in the head. She landed hard, stumbling slightly, and looked up, blinking as Matthew's bare back blocked her vision.

Blood sprayed into the air and Ruby's mind went blank. She watched blood drip onto the stone below Matthew's feet and froze in place, mind flashing back to Qrow. Slowly, she forced her gaze upward to see no blade sticking out of Matthew's back. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay and there was no need to use Silver Eyes  _calm down calmdown_ _ **remaincalm**_ _—_

Weiss shoved Matthew behind her and impaled the Alpha that slashed him, throwing its body away. "How bad?"

Matthew pressed a hand to the bloody marks across his chest, expression taut with pain. "I'm okay."

"Liar." Alfred whispered.

Darkness caught Ruby's eye and she stifled a hiss as shadow-like hands stretched from Salem, creeping along the ground. Dark ooze dripped from their fingertips and Ruby knew a single slice would have them infected with Grimm essence. The five crowded together, back-to-back as the shadows swirled around them.

"Ruby?" Weiss said tersely, back pressed against Matthew's. "Plan?"

Before Ruby could speak, a blast of light vaporized the shadows and Arthur and Francis landed between the five and Salem. Francis's saber was held in a white-knuckled grip while Arthur's staff was held firmly, his hands quivering with rage.

" _Don't_  touch them!" Arthur snarled.

Energy pulsed around him but before it could be released, Francis grasped his hand. Ruby bit back a cry as the energy latched onto Francis, swirling around him like a thunderstorm, only for it to  _explode_  outward with twice the force it had previously. Salem and her Grimm were thrown into the walls. Most of the Grimm exploded on impact but Salem left cracks where she struck the stone. Alfred seemed ignorant to the Queen of the Grimm's descent.

Matthew cracked a smile. "About time you got here."

Francis did a double-take— Ruby recalled their last, painful meeting with Matthew and winced— before smiling widely, tears of relief in his soft blue eyes. "Well, as Alfred always says: the heroes of the story are often late."

Alfred did not seem to hear him. "Arthur!" He beamed and hugged his brother, swinging him back and forth and ignoring his yelp and scowl. He abruptly jerked away and squinted at his brother. "You aren't Grimm-y are you?"

If Arthur was perplexed by the question he did not show it. "No. I'm not—"

Alfred hugged him again, shifting his body. Salem's shadows bounced off his back and destroyed a section of the wall, revealing a section of the maze. Alfred winced but did little else, laying his head on Arthur's shoulder.

"I'm deflect-y like France when it comes to attacks from Salem because the Relic of Choice is inside me and I chose to protect it so its deflecting Salem's attacks." he rambled. Alfred's giggle sounded closer to a sob. "It hurts really bad."

He released Arthur and hunched over, rubbing at his side. The skin around the Relic was turning black. Ruby forced herself not to look at it too long. Arthur jerked, pulling Alfred's hand away, and Ruby realized he had been clawing at his skin. His brow furrowed as he took in the blood on his fingertips and he bit his lip. His pupils dilated and his gaze snapped to his oldest brother.

"Don't waste your energy. Sealing her won't work. Not with the Relics in there." Alfred swayed on his feet as he pointed at Salem. "She'll use Knowledge and Creation to bust out easy-peasy."

Ruby's heart sank.

Alfred blinked at her and absently grabbed the air near her head. "Don't vanish." he muttered. "You have a choice."

Arthur yanked Alfred to his side and slammed his staff down. A globe of energy shimmered around them and Salem's attack smashed into the side of the shield. Green and black energy fought, neither willing to give in an inch, and Arthur gritted his teeth, a tendon quivering in his neck. Weiss stepped closer to him.

"Does anyone have a new plan?" Weiss asked tersely.

"I do." Alfred said brightly. He looked at Ruby. "Hey, Ruby. Do you want to control Silver Eyes?"

Ruby froze.

A Grimm slammed into the shield directly in front of her face and she recoiled, backing into Matthew. He stiffened, nostrils flaring, and shoved her away, retreating to the edge of the protected area. Ruby could not move. Fear locked her muscles, chilling her to the core as she remembered  _sadism and pain and blood and the ravenous desire to **tear her friends apart—**_

"W-What?" she stammered.

Glowing eyes focused on her face. "I can give you control, if you choose to have it. It's only while I have Choice but I should last long enough."

He held out his hand.

Ruby did not take it.

She barely noticed the horde of Grimm getting larger, covering the shield as they attempted to break it with force and weight. Arthur knelt in place, teeth clenched so hard Ruby was surprised they did not crack, and his staff glowed ominously, tiny threads of light creeping through the wood.

Alfred's glowing, gold-surrounded blue eyes softened. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. Silver Eyes do not have to control you. With the Relic, the curse Salem created can be temporarily undone. You can use your powers as they were meant to be used. You can control Silver Eyes, if you  _choose_  to."

Salem watched the exchange in disinterest, her lip curled into a sneer. "Foolish children. Even Silver-Eyes cannot harm me. You  _cannot_  beat me."

Arthur snorted, teeth bared in a mocking grin. "If that were true, then why did you try to destroy the Silver-Eyed Warriors?"

Salem flinched, her lips twisting with rage, and Arthur smirked.

Alfred ignored them, still holding out his hand for Ruby to take.

He caught her gaze and smiled gently at her. "I trust you."

Ruby swallowed hard.

She took Alfred's hand, and her world turned silver.

XXXXXXX

"It's ready."

The words echoed in Tony's lab, punctuated by a distant rumble. Norway tensed but resisted the instincts that demanded he run upstairs and assist Iceland and the others in holding off the Grimm. He was needed down here, not up there, and the sooner he was finished, the better chance they had to win.

At first glance, Tony's weapon appeared to be like any other missile. Closer inspection revealed elements that human technology could never replicate for another thousand years. The weapon glowed with an ominous orange energy, reminding Norway of volcanic rock that was about to erupt. It had taken both Tony's science and Norway's magic to create the weapon, using a combination of Grimm essence samples to make the Grimm-killing bio-weapon and bonding rituals to tell it where to land.

If Tony's hypothesis that the Grimm relied on the Grimm pools to exist, the combination of science and magic just might be enough to rid them of at least some of the Grimm.

As another tremor shook the lab, Norway prayed it was enough.

Tony stepped up and studied their creation, scrutinizing the bio-weapon as if searching for any flaws. His eyes flicked to the other prototype waiting in a sealed container before returning to the one on the ritual array. Silently, Tony went to his desk and pulled out something. Norway realized it was a mundane spray can.

Tony casually spray painted "For Salem" on the side of the weapon in bright blue letters. He paused, considering his artwork, and crossed out "For" with a single line. He wrote "Fuck Salem" instead and stared unblinkingly at Norway as if daring him to argue. Norway said nothing, nearly inclining his head. Tony looked back at the weapon and exhaled, every muscle taut with repressed rage.

"Hurting my friend was one of the biggest mistakes you ever made." Tony whispered. He stepped back and looked at Norway. "Send it."

Norway placed his hands on the ritual array, wishing Romania was here to assist him. He resigned himself to the exhaustion he was going to feel and began the ritual, speaking slowly and clearly with his hands on the array. His volume grew louder as a glow formed along the runes, illuminating the lab in an eerie green light. Norway did not falter, even as he felt the energy draining from his limbs like his lifeblood was being sucked out his body.

With a final command, Norway collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.

And the weapon vanished in a flare of green light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *maniacally giggles in the distance*
> 
> See you soon. (Either tomorrow or Friday.)


	42. All Things Must Die

An unnatural bloodstained sky loomed far above the barren wasteland. Only the feeble luminescence of the shattered moon dared to shine down and provide light, for even the sun itself was banished from this cursed land.

Crystals jutted out from almost ever surface, glowing with a poisonous purple light. Yet even that light was dull and murky, as if the crystals devoured color instead of setting it free. Not a breath of wind whispered through the air, leaving the atmosphere heavy and oppressive, like it was not air but black, tar-like sludge that lay in wait, eager to fill its victims' lungs and drown them in their suffering.

This place was not a land of hope.

It was not a land of prosperity or life.

For it was the birthplace of the monsters that plagued Remnant and kept humanity trapped in an endless cycle of suffering and fear. Born from the jealousy and rage of the God of Darkness and maintained by the jealousy and rage of his disciple, the Grimm flourished, forever-spawning from the black, vile ooze that birthed their kind.

A puddle of that hellish ooze shifted like molten sludge and a Beowolf clambered from its depths, joining the hundreds of thousands of monstrous, deformed creatures that prowled the desolate land. More crawled out of the pools of bubbling ooze and shook the substance from their hides before joining their kin.

Though those that could fly were able to leave their desolate home with ease, the others were less able to traverse to populated lands. They would in time, however, because they had all the time in the world. Grimm did not need food for sustenance, or light, or even air. They were creatures of darkness and destruction, whose only purpose was not to survive, but to ensure that others did not.

The Grimm could not be considered living creatures. Nor could they be considered forces of nature, for they were too unnatural and destructive to be considered either. Their only desire was destruction, and to continue that destruction until they themselves were destroyed. And as long as the pools from whence they came existed, they would continue Salem's mission, and humanity would never know peace.

Far above the barren wasteland, in the dark crimson sky, green light flared. An array appeared in midair and shone like a beacon, mocking the land and sky's demand for darkness and misery. The array shifted, its outside spinning clockwise while its innards spun counterclockwise and a metallic object materialized in the midst of flickering runes.

The light vanished in a snap, too quickly for any of the nearby Grimm to come to investigate, and with the magic that held it aloft gone, its delivery plunged downward.

Tony's weapon struck the unnaturally crystalline ground with a thunderous  **boom**  and exploded into white light.

XXXXXXX

A Boarbatusk impaled a soldier on its tusks, staining the white bones red. It threw the screaming man off its tusks and charged at China. He rolled to the side, avoiding the Grimm, and brought his tonfa down to bash its skull in. The Boarbatusk crumpled. China had no time to celebrate as an Ursa swiped at him, red eyes wild with crazed rage. China shot it through the jaw and took a moment to breathe, wiping at his brow.

Around him, his allies and the soldiers fought the Grimm the Ulama continued to spawn, staying close as they dared as the Grimm swarmed around them. China could deny it before, but it was clear now that the Grimm wanted him dead. Salem truly was a grudge holder. China could almost appreciate her pettiness. It kept the Ulama away from its intended target of DC.

China shot a Creep and wiped at his brow again, his breaths burning his throat. His Aura had helped his stamina greatly but it did not get rid of all the aches and strain from fighting for so long and at such close quarters. China could feel himself tiring, and the slight stiffness in Japan's movements showed he was beginning to struggle as well.

_America better appreciate this when he returns, aru._

" _Where_  is our air support?" China growled, his exhausted irritability shining through.

"They are busy in the air." Japan reminded him, very close to sounding terse. "The Ulama likes to spawn Nevermore."

"And Lancers!" Spain yelped as he shot one of the wasp-like Grimm. He did not have time to lower his gun before he had to shoot another one. "I did not have a fear of bees before but I think that might change after this."

"I'm going to hear buzzing in my nightmares." Romania commented rather calmly as he shot a Lancer through a tree.

China wondered if he was that calm or if he was so panicked an illusion of calm had taken over. Either could be the case. With the Ulama so focused on killing them, it was spawning Grimm at an absurd rate, covering the field and forest with pools of black gunk.

Every step China took was carefully planned because he could not afford to have to chop off an infected leg now. There was no doubt in his mind the ooze would infect anyone who accidentally stepped in it.

Sweden snatched a Beowolf from midair as it lunged for China's back and broke its neck, tossing it into its kin. Before China could thank him, the sound of an engine hummed above the howls and shrieks of the Grimm and jet roared into view, passing by the horde of blackness that almost filled the sky. China watched it swoop around the swarm and waited with bated breath for when it would open fire.

"About time." Korea breathed. "We just need to—"

The Ulama screeched. Gigantic, razor-sharp feathers shot from its flapping wings and impaled the aircraft. The jet exploded, and pieces of debris rained down on them. China grabbed a soldier and ran with him out of the danger-zone, wincing as red-hot metal struck his back and ricocheted off his Aura. He shoved the soldier at one of his comrades and turned back towards the gigantic feathered Grimm.

As another soldier fell to a Beowolf's claws, China could not say which of his emotions were stronger: his anger or his fear.

All of these deaths, all of this destruction, all of this effort was for  _what?_  To make people suffer? To make  _him_  suffer, because America would not feel this battle and all these Grimm were focused on China? There was no strategic advantage in keeping the Ulama hunting him. China could almost appreciate Salem's pettiness because it kept civilians out of the way, but good men and women were still dying, fighting an endless battle that Salem likely started on a whim.

It was then China decided it was not fear or anger that filled his heart and kept him going. It was disgust and hatred for the one who could kill and destroy so casually. So  _needlessly_.

China glared up at the Ulama and hoped it could feel his hatred.

_I won't fall because of you._

The Ulama faltered.

Almost too quickly to catch, its wings locked and it plunged twenty meters. It recovered, but China could see its movements were noticeably sluggish. China risked a glance at his allies to see who might have gotten the hit but all of them looked as confused as he felt.

The Ulama dropped another ten meters before it sluggishly ascended again. China heard Romania gasp and followed his gaze. Before their eyes, all of the black Grimm pools vanished into nothingness.

"Tony did it." Romania breathed.

All of the nations realized what he meant.

"It's weakened!" Korea gasped. "This is our chance. We should call in another jet and—"

"No." China interrupted. He kept his gaze on the faltering Ulama and calmly clicked a new cartridge into his weapon. "You young people are so obsessed with the complex solutions when a simple one will work just as well."

Japan shot him an alarmed glance. "That's not going to work. You cannot just shoot it and—"

Bones aching, muscles quivering, and fingers white with strain, China's last hold on patience snapped. " _Watch me_."

He aimed at the Ulama and fired.

To the surprise of them all, the shot went straight through the Ulama's feathery chest and its body exploded into bone shards.

XXXXXXX

Every inch Lithuania moved forward was a failure. He tried to convince himself that was not true and he was overreacting, but he could not deny the panic building in his body as the Cerberus headed steadily towards its destination. It was mere miles from Washington DC now. Soon the hulking beast would be able to see the Washington Monument. Or it would, if the air around it were not filled with Grimm.

A machine gun would be extremely helpful at the moment. More so than the rifle Lithuania held, since with it he would be able to mow down more of the Grimm that covered the streets. It was all he could do to keep close to the Cerberus, and that was with the help of the military vehicle Switzerland drove.

The trigger-happy nation's knuckles were white around the steering wheel as he weaved through the mob, ramming into as many Grimm as possible. A normal car would be a crushed heap of metal by now, but the armor on their vehicle provided some much-needed protection from the repeated blunt-force impacts.

Lithuania heard the telltale click of an empty gun and Poland uttered a curse in his native tongue. Lithuania's radio crackled and he cringed as feedback shrieked in his ear. Garbled words came through the device, barely audible among the static.

" _...divert… away… civilians… idiots… ignored evacuation..."_

Lithuania lowered his hand from his ear and looked to the other nations. "Did anyone get that?"

"A ton of idiots didn't evacuate like they were supposed to." Switzerland snarled. "We're about to reach a part of the city  _filled_  with civilians—"

" _Look out!_ " Liechtenstein screamed.

Something huge slammed into the side of the car, sending it into a spin. Poland yelled and grabbed onto Lithuania while Denmark— perhaps instinctively— grabbed Liechtenstein.

Lithuania had the briefest moment to see a Nevermore land in front of them before the impact sent his head through the side window. His vision blurred, growing spotty, and next thing he knew, Poland was dragging him out of the car. A glance at their former ride showed why.

Like ants fleeing a destroyed hill, all the nations fled the vehicle as the Nevermore's open beak descended towards this. The Nevermore grabbed the abandoned vehicle and threw it into a building. Lithuania flinched as it exploded inside, sending glass raining down onto the street.

Poland discarded his empty gun and grabbed what appeared to be a piece of broken metal. He stabbed it through an Ursa like a spear and yanked it free, arms trembling. A Beowolf lunged for him but Switzerland shot it down.

"How far is backup?" he asked levelly.

Lithuania merely shook his head. He went back-to-back with Poland and watched as the Grimm surround them. He could not see the end of them anymore. There were too many, and soon they would reach those that had little hope of defending themselves from the endless onslaught of man-killing creatures. For the first time, pangs of despair wormed their way through his heart.

_We need a miracle._

And as if some deity had heard his prayer, it was answered.

Without warning, the black pools faded and half the Grimm disintegrated into black dust. The Cerberus bellowed in pain and its left foreleg buckled, as if it could no longer bear its own weight.

Lithuania saw a flicker of blond and lunged forward, fingers scraping against Denmark's coat. The nation ignored his shout as he ran towards the Cerberus's head at a full sprint, his axe held aloft. Lithuania had a moment to wonder how he was going to explain Denmark's stupid death to Norway before Denmark reached the Cerberus's leftmost head.

Letting loose a war cry, Denmark slashed its throat open. Black blood sprayed from the wound and covered the nation, but before Lithuania could panic, it faded away like smoke in the wind. The leftmost head of the gigantic dog slumped, while the other two howled in pain and rage. A bullet went through the rightmost head's eye and it instantly went unfocused, becoming cloudy in death.

The final head howled and fell to the street, brought down by the weight of its fallen kin. Lithuania did not look to Switzerland for confirmation, instead pushing himself forward as fast as he could. He felt Poland at his shoulder and felt his friend shove something into his hand. Together, the two lunged for the Cerberus and shoved the makeshift spear into its throat with all the force they could muster. The spear was a toothpick compared to the Grimm, but one yank of it was enough.

Lithuania cringed and kept his mouth shut as cold black blood sprayed over him. Poland barely had the time to shriek before the disgusting substance faded away. Mere minutes ago, that contact would be the death of them, but now it vanished like it had never existed in the first place.

Lithuania did not need to be told what had caused the change.

Poland slumped against him, panting heavily, and together they watched the Cerberus's final head fade away.

"Tony frightens me sometimes." Poland murmured.

Watching all of the remaining Grimm turn to ash, Lithuania was hard-pressed to disagree.

XXXXXXX

Ruby took America's hand and silver light pulsed and rippled to life. America unflinchingly watched as her silver iris expanded and her eye grew monochrome, emitting a glow that could peel flesh from bones and turn those bones to nothingness—

Something dark and oppressive slammed down on them all, forcing the air from their throats and leaving them gasping for air. The silver light vanished like a drowned candle and Ruby fell to her knees.

"Did you think I'd allow you to do this?" Salem purred.

She swiped at Ruby, fingers cloaked in shadows, and the air  _screamed_. America grabbed Ruby and threw them both aside as dark aura pulsed from Salem's hands, shattering the stairs leading up to the altar. Bits of broken stone peppered America's skin. He pulled himself and Ruby onto their feet and felt  _something_  jab at his mind. The Relic fought it off viciously, snarling possessively, and he repressed a shudder.

Salem misunderstood the reason for his trembling. She chuckled lowly, lips twisted into a savage grin. "Foolish children. It is as I told you: You have  _no hop_ e of defeating me."

Ruby shuddered in America's hold and he could see she was struggling. Her skin had drained of all color, and as her eye locked with his, it filled with tears. America could see her choice— to  _control_  the power she feared— fading away. He could feel her fear growing, clinging to him like a parasite, and his own conviction faltered—

A gentle violet aura settled over them, and America felt everyone breathe again.

England's expression was pinched as he glowered straight ahead, a bit of sweat beading on his brow. A Beowolf lunged for him, jaws agape but he struck it down with a harsh blow to the skull. Its body crumpled at his feet as he stalked forward to stand next to his panting comrades.

"Oh good, that worked." he said and his tone was strained as if he were carrying a weight that was almost too heavy for him to bear. His sharp green eyes flicked to each of them. "I apologize for influencing you."

Ruby did not say a word. She stared straight ahead, face eerily blank.

"I'd rather it be you than her." Weiss grunted as she forced herself back onto her feet.

Salem snarled and her arm transformed into a Nevermore's wing. Gigantic, dagger-like feathers shot at the heroes but France deflected them. They impaled the ground around Salem but one hit her directly in the chest. Rather than harm her, the feather sank harmlessly into her flesh. She flicked her arm and a wave of darkness burst from her fingers in an arc, filling the air with an ear-piercing shriek.

America and the others ducked and the columns behind them were cut in two. The ceiling above them cracked ominously, and bits of dust rained down upon them.

Salem's arms transformed into wings and fire flickered along her black feathers. Red-hot _fury_  pulsed through America's veins and he  _grabbed_  the fire before it could leave her wings. With a clench of his hand, he snuffed it out.

"Fire is  _Vale's_ , not yours." he snarled.

Salem bared her teeth and slashed at America with claw-tipped fingers and he dodged, dancing backwards. Canada dashed in and swung at her but she grabbed his arm and slammed him into the ground. Canada's gasp of pain was barely audible over the crack of breaking stone and he lay there, winded.

A glyph caught Salem's arm and Weiss threw her away from the fallen nation, using another glyph to propel him in the opposite direction. Canada skidded to a halt at France's feet and he hurriedly helped him up. Italy hugged them both, letting a Boarbatusk charge through them.

The sound of a sniper rifle firing was wonderfully welcome. Ruby lowered Crescent Rose and hastily raised it again, forced to block Salem's strike. The blow sent her skidding back several feet. She panted, eye flickering, but the steady glow did not return.

Weiss darted in and grabbed Salem's wrist, slashing her across the chest. She grabbed Ruby and fled with her, putting distance between them and the Queen of the Grimm. Before America could hope, Salem's wounds vanished in a blink.

"Crap." Weiss whispered.

England flicked his staff and sent more Grimm flying with a blast of light. "She'll heal from our attacks." he said tersely. "We  _need_  your power, Ruby."

Ruby flinched. "I—"

Canada stepped in front of her, taking a slash from an Alpha's claws. Bloody streaks spread across Canada's chest but he hardly seemed to notice as he cut the Alpha's head off. A Griffon tried to grab him but France stabbed it through its ribs. He deflected another wave of shadows and sent it hurtling back at Salem, who weathered her own attack with mocking disinterest.

England blasted a swarm of Lancers out of the air. "Weiss, we need to get rid of these Grimm."

"Give me a second." Weiss said tersely. She stabbed her weapon into the ground as a glyph circled around it.

A scream ripped through the air and France went down in a dark blue flare. He hit the ground and gasped, clutching at his chest, and America guessed a few of his ribs had snapped. Italy grabbed his hands and dragged him backwards, uttering low, frantic apologies as France moaned in pain. Italy looked up and threw himself over France, curling up on top of him as a Creep charged through them teeth first.

White light flared and Weiss's summon tore through the Grimm. She caught more in her glyphs, using them to shoot the Grimm away from their group. Salem watched the carnage with a distantly annoyed air, gaze following her Grimm as they were batted aside.

America blinked, and then Salem was standing in front of Weiss.

Weiss flinched and slashed at Salem but she caught her weapon by the blade. The edge quivered millimeters from her neck. Salem yanked the scythe away and inspected it briefly, before her fingers clenched. Myrtenaster's thin blade snapped in half and she turned the blade around—

Weiss's mouth opened in a pained 'o' as every glowing summon faded away.

Myrtenaster's blade protruded from her back.

America's vision blurred and he idly noted Salem was on fire. Blue fire, specifically. He ignored the Queen of the Grimm's shrieks and stared blankly at Weiss, struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.

It took him several heartbeats to see the blade was through her shoulder.

Not her chest. Her  _shoulder_ , by her collar bone.

Weiss would be fine. She would be fine. She would be  _fine_ —

Panic gripped his heart and the fire burning Salem snuffed out. She panted for a moment as she healed, the hand holding Weiss notably not burnt. Red eyes flicked from America to Ruby and Salem calmly dropped Weiss like she was nothing more than a piece of trash. Unable to support herself, Weiss crumpled to the floor. Her icy blue eyes fluttered and she clutched at the weapon still in her shoulder. A shudder passed through her body and she did not move as Salem raised her hand.

Salem's blow ricocheted off a green shield and Ruby appeared in a burst of roaring rose petals, scythe mid-swing. Her blow bisected Salem but she instantly regenerated. Ruby vanished into rose petals and appeared in front of England. She shoved Weiss into the wide-eyed nation's arms.

" _HELP HER!_ "

England gaped at Weiss wordlessly. America burned a horde of Grimm before they could reach his frozen brother. France was not moving. Weiss was not moving. England was not moving either, staring at the girl in his arms in horror.

"Arthur,  _heal_   _her._ " America snapped.

England's paralysis faded and he jerked into motion. His staff glowed as he frantically carved an array into the ground. Salem's lip curled. Her limb transformed and a Nuckelavee's arm and shot towards Weiss and England.

The Silver Eyes' light snapped down onto the limb like glowing jaws and Salem stared at the stub that used to be her arm in shock. Her teeth bared— in anger or pain? America saw a flicker of white in her torso and Salem's arm began regenerating.

Ruby froze again, the silver light flickering, and America threw all caution to the wind and ran to her, grabbing her hand as he forced Salem away with a storm of fire and lightning. He heard more than saw Canada lop Salem's arm off and left it to his twin to keep her distracted, focusing completely on Ruby.

"Don't be afraid, Ruby. You can control this."

Ruby recoiled, and America knew it was because he could see the choices flitting through her mind. Try to fight using her weapon and wits and risk losing, or use the terrifying curse she despised to hopefully win? The choice should be easy, but America knew it was not. Not when the Silver Eyes had hurt so many of her friends in the past.

Ruby did not say any of that, but she did not need to. Not now. Not to him.

To the small part of him that remained lucid under the Relic of Choice's agonizing presence, it hurt to see the terror and uncertainty in Ruby's eyes.

"I  _can't..._ " she whispered.

"Yes you can." America stated and his voice came out just a bit too soothing to all be his own. "This way, we  _can_ beat her. You won't hurt anyone except Salem. I promise."

Ruby hesitated, but the fear in her eye faded.

Something shifted in the air, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from the atmosphere.

Salem flinched, and all of her Grimm exploded into dust. Ruby's gaze snapped into focus and she yanked America behind her, ready for a trick. America was distantly bemused by the move—  _he_  should be the one playing human shield— but found himself distracted by Salem.

Her pale skin, once smooth and almost flawless in its demonic nature, had taken on a sickly tinge. Her hands trembled visibly, and her posture grew hunched as if she were in pain. A shared thought passed through everyone's mind:  _What happened?_ The answer may be found if America sought it out, but he was content to stare, confused by the change.

Only one was unaffected by the sight of Salem's weakness. Canada rushed in and chopped Salem's arm off. America may be worried about his twin's fascination with removing the Queen of the Grimm's limbs but it was  _Salem_  so he would let it slide. It was clear as day that her regeneration was slower. Slower, but not by much. Salem's expression twisted and she raised her half-formed hand, pointing it at America, but Canada instantly relieved her of the hand she meant to harm his twin with.

"You can regenerate as many times as you want." he growled. "I'll keep on cutting."

Salem backed away and glared at Canada with pure loathing in her eyes, but America had to laugh.

"I thought you said you weren't a personification." he mocked. "I know you aren't, but you sure seem to have a similar weakness."

Salem snarled and her hand transformed again. She shot a wave of fire at them but America deflected it, dissipating the blaze into harmless nothingness. His claim appeared to be closer to the truth than he anticipated.

_Excellent._

As Canada lunged for Salem with the ferocity of a rabid but intelligent wolf, America did not hold his hand out to Ruby. He did not need to this time. Instead  _she_  boldly grabbed his hand, her choice glowing like a blazing sun.

No words needed to be said.

Silver light overcame the gold but America was not afraid. Ruby had made her choice, so he could keep her in control. When Ruby's eye grew monochrome, there was no malice within. When she looked upon her Enemy, none of them were her friends, only the Grimm and their Queen.

The silver light shot through the air and Salem threw herself aside, the light grazing her thigh. She howled in pain and black blood welled up from the gash, barely visible beneath her black dress. She dodged another flare of light and slipped. It was almost funny to see the Queen of the Grimm stumble, but America could not risk laughing. Not when he needed to focus on making Ruby's choice a reality and ignore the increasingly sharp burning sensation in his torso.

The frantic battle for the heroes' survival became a game of cat and mouse as Ruby and Canada relentlessly pursued Salem across the chamber. Columns shattered, walls were sliced apart, and the groaning of a straining weight grew steadily louder. America stood in place— other than the occasional flinch and sway— and focused on Ruby and breathing through his mouth. Not the  _painpainpain_  because if he lost his grip on Ruby, her focused attacks would become a general desire to slaughter everyone in sight.

England was busy, France and Weiss were down, and Italy stood over them, shaking and blank-eyed as he scanned the chamber for more Grimm. Salem was alone, and  _something_  had changed, but she was successfully avoiding the attacks that just might end her at last. America wanted to help, oh how he did, but he could not  _lose control_.

America's mind split— pretend its like my connection with my people not  _hurtingpainful stopstop_ _ **stop**_ — and he felt himself floating. He blinked down at his body and idly noticed his skin was reddish at best and blackened at worst.

_Running out of time._

America raised his head and tracked Salem's trajectory, pointing slightly ahead of her. She exploded into flames with a shriek, but her screams were too demonic to be considered human. She staggered out of the inferno and Canada slashed her back open, letting blood spray. Salem turned on him— more animal than human— but silver light snagged her arm, disintegrating it up to the elbow. Salem roared, her howl like the screams of the damned, and in that moment America knew almost all cognizant thoughts were gone, replaced by the feral desire to destroy those that bested her.

Her gaze— filled with loathing and pure madness— raked over Ruby and Canada and landed on America.

" **You…** " She whispered, voice low and guttural, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach out and strangle him. " **You… You…** _ **You...**_ "

Salem briefly stooped as if she had picked up something and sprang for him, crossing the distance between them in a blink. America jerked back but he was not quick enough. Something slammed into his chest, sending a pinch of pain through his torso and he fell back, hitting the ground hard.

Above him, Salem shrieked as Canada beat her back, eyes glowing a violent violet as he coldly sliced her arm to pieces. America sat up and curiously studied the hilt of the sacrificial dagger that stuck out of his torso, just below his ribs.

"Ow." he said quietly.

He yanked the blade out and discarded it as he rose to electrocute his foe. Salem ignored the pain and lunged for him again, nothing more than a feral, rabid beast. America's mind cleared for what felt like the first time in eons and he did not back away as he saw Ruby and Canada coming at Salem from behind. Instead he raised his hand as he acted as bait one last time.

Finally, a glimmer of sentience returned to Salem's twisted face. Finally, blatant fear passed through her expression and she stopped her mindless assault and fell back a step. But it was too late. Before she could retreat, a black glyph locked around Salem's ankles and held her in place. Silver light rippled, blue flames roared, and Canada lunged for Salem, sword raised.

For the briefest moment, America saw her eyes widen with comprehension—

And the Queen of the Grimm was consumed by silver light and blue fire. It rippled around her like an inferno and abruptly pulled back, revealing their victim. Salem stood in place, eyes wide and blank. Blue flames and silver light swirled around her, dancing along the exposed tip of the Relic of Destruction that stuck out her chest.

Her mangled, burnt arms twitched.

They fell to her sides…

And the cold red light in Salem's eyes died.

Slowly, her body slumped forward. Flakes of black and white stripped off her, disintegrating like ashes. The Relics of Creation and Knowledge emerged from within her fading torso and fell, no longer held in a living prison. They hit the ground with echoing clatters.

While the Relic of Knowledge righted itself to float above the floor, the Relic of Creation rolled a few feet before coming to a stop. A deep gash was carved into the paintbrush, nearly bisecting it, and America realized Canada must have hit it with the Relic of Destruction. Unlike the other Relics, Creation no longer glowed. Instead it laid on the cracked stone floor, dull and lifeless.

No one celebrated.

No one cheered.

No one spoke.

Instead, they stood in solemn silence and watched Salem disintegrate like the lowliest of her Grimm.

Then the Queen of the Grimm was gone, not leaving even ashes behind.

XXXXXXX

"We did it."

It was Weiss who said the words, voice as faint as the softest breeze. The broken tip of Myrtenaster's blade slipped from her fingers and clattered to the stone floor. The silver sheen covering Ruby's sight vanished in a blink and colors snapped back into her vision. She ran to Weiss's side and faltered, falling to her knees beside her friend. Weiss watched her with half-lidded eyes, shoulder stained red and features pale and drawn.

"Are you okay?"

"I should be the one asking you that, dummy." Ruby mumbled.

"I stopped the bleeding but she needs a doctor. Or Jaune." Arthur interrupted.

Weiss bit her lip and Ruby could see the protests she was holding back. Ruby did not know what Arthur did to stop her wounds from bleeding but it had obviously taken a lot out of him. He was almost as pale as his patient. Despite that, he looked to his equally-pale companion and made to rise.

"Francis—"

"Stay down. I'll heal." Francis said, but his voice held a slight wheeze.

His blue gaze was on something past Ruby and she withheld a grimace. She already knew what it was that drew his attention. The Relic of Knowledge floated serenely a few inches above the ground, but the Relic of Creation lay on its side, as dull and dark as an unlit torch. Ruby picked up Creation and inspected it. The large white paintbrush was cut almost completely in half and the white flames that served as its bristles were gone.

As Ruby lifted it, the handle snapped. The weight of the top proved to be too much and it fell over to hang awkwardly to the side, dangling by a thread. Whatever power it held was gone, snuffed out by Destruction. Ruby glanced at the golden sword still held by Matthew and forced her gaze away. She could not find it within herself to be saddened by the loss of the Relic of Creation.

The taps of approaching footsteps were like gunshots in the near-silence. Ruby faced the door, scythe raised. A familiar orange-haired figure appeared in the doorway and she relaxed, lowering her weapon.

"It appears I am too late." Penny said.

She hobbled forward, body sparking, and fell to her knees. Alfred lurched towards her only to halt in place, ashen skin draining of the remaining color it had. Francis rushed to Penny's side in his stead and helped her stand. She clung to his arm.

"Hazel Rainart's current whereabouts are unknown. I am now shutting down to reboot. Please do not be alarmed."

With that, her eyes dulled to grey and she went limp. Francis kept her upright despite the color draining from his skin.

Matthew abruptly shoved the Relic of Destruction at his twin and retreated to the edge of the chamber. Ruby watched him go in bewilderment until she noticed the way his nostrils flared and his fingers flexed unnaturally. Red-tinged violet eyes snapped to her and she smiled weakly. His eyes narrowed to slits and Ruby could see the effort it took for him to force his gaze away from her. She tried not to worry but the stiffness in his shoulders suggested she failed.

"I'm glad you're all okay." Alfred said suddenly, but his voice was too faint, like he could barely find the breath to utter the words.

Arthur noticed the discrepancy and rose but Ruby used her Semblance and got to Alfred first. As she reached him, Alfred's shoulders hunched in a miserable mix of defensiveness and a desire to hide something. Despite the move, he did not resist as Ruby forced his hands away from his skin, revealing what he had been trying to cover up. His fingers were stained red, and there was a thin, deep gash on his chest, between two of his ribs.

He had been stabbed.

Ruby's gasp went unheard as a sickening  ** _crack_  **echoed through the chamber. The earth shuddered. Ruby staggered into Alfred, who wobbled at the collision before falling in a heap. He lay curled up on the floor, blue eyes dull and wide but immediately pushed himself back up. He grasped Ruby's arm for support and she noticed his skin was  _cold_.

"The school is collapsing." Alfred murmured vaguely.

His tone was so faint that it took Ruby a moment to realize what he had said. Francis must have understood before her, for something close to panic leaked into his wild blue eyes.

"Arthur, blast a hole through the ceiling and  _get us out_." he snapped.

A chunk of the ceiling fell, barely missing Ruby. She yelped and staggered back into Matthew, who grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the falling stone. His grip was painfully tight as chunks larger than an Alpha fell between them and Arthur, Francis, Penny, and Weiss. Was it their battle that did this or that— with Salem's death— Ozpin and his magic were now gone?

Ruby had not more time to ponder the reason as a chunk of mortar nearly crushed her foot. Another sickening  _crack_ assaulted her eardrums and she vaguely heard Arthur shouting from the other side of the pile of stone.

"Get out of here!" Matthew bellowed, making Ruby jump. "Italy's got us.  _Go!_ "

Feliciano certainly did not look as if he "got them". His skin was nearly as white as Weiss's hair and his eyes were too wide, but he grabbed Alfred's hand nonetheless and reached out to Ruby. Ruby instinctively burst into rose petals, only to reform in a snap as her red Aura flared to nothingness. She staggered and fell to her knees with a gasp, vision swimming.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see a chunk of stone falling towards her. Ruby had enough time to think about how stupid it was that she was going to die from a rock after surviving Salem when something hit her in the side.

Her silver eye locked with pure violet before the rock clipped the side of Matthew's head. Red-tinged violet eyes rolled back and Matthew slumped to the floor, unconscious. Ruby bit back a panicked scream and dragged Matthew to Alfred while he grabbed Feliciano—

The chamber collapsed around them, and everything went dark.

Ruby felt no pain, so she guessed Feliciano had succeeded in making them intangible. She could still feel Matthew and Alfred's hands in hers but other than that, she was weightless. As the darkness, silence, and weightlessness failed to cease, unease slithered up her spine and curled around her throat. Ruby was not claustrophobic, but after this she just might be.

Were they moving? Was she breathing? Was her heart beating? Was she alive?

Before her panic could consume her, light and color slammed into her retinas, momentarily blinding her with its brilliance. She yelped and released Alfred and Matthew, covering her eye. The thud of Matthew's body hitting the ground made her flinch in remorse and she knelt at his side, checking his pulse. His too-pale skin was icy cold but his pulse beat steadily under her fingers.

Yellow Aura flared and Feliciano collapsed, exhausted from using his Semblance so many times. Alfred caught him but his jaw went taut as his eyes widened with pain. He hastily set Feliciano down and forced himself back onto his feet, swaying in place. He trembled, skin pale and slick with sweat, and Ruby realized the stab wound in his chest was still bleeding.

"Can't sleep yet." he mumbled. "Can't sleep yet."

A shudder passed through him and his knees buckled. Ruby jerked forward and caught him, lowering him gently to the ground. Around them, Grimm disintegrated in droves, turning into ashes before leaving nothing behind. A few lingered but instead of attacking, they fled, vanishing from sight. In the distance, Beacon Academy was swallowed up by the earth.

"Al!" Ruby glanced frantically from him, to the unconscious Matthew and Feliciano, and into the woods where the others  _had_  to be. "I'll get Arthur—"

"No." Alfred said sharply. "Don't call him just yet. There's something I need you to do for me. I don't want him to see it."

Ruby's thoughts jumped to what he may be implying and she grasped his hand. "You're  _not_  dying here, you  _jerk!_ "

Alfred's chuckle was weak and breathy. His skin was an unhealthy grey. "That's not what I meant." His hand twitched up and he dropped the Relic of Destruction into her lap. "Destroy the Relic of Choice."

Ruby stared blankly at the sword, then blinked at him. "...What?" Despite her initial confusion, she slowly comprehended what he had said and her breath hitched. Yes, Alfred was injured but surely he was not asking her to—?

Alfred noticed her expression and smiled in what was likely meant to be a reassuring way, but came out alarming because of the blood on his teeth. "Calm down. It's not that. It's…  _this_." He gestured faintly at the glowing Relic under his skin. "Do you realize what I could accidentally do with this thing inside me? I could 'choose' to make things happen in my favor. I could 'choose' to warp reality. I could 'choose' to take away people's free will. Not only that, but anyone who touches me will have the same abilities." he took a shuddering breath. "No one should have that kind of power, Ruby. Cut this thing to pieces so no one can use it again.  _Destroy_   _it_."

Ruby stared at him mutely. Unwillingly, her eyes flicked to the Relic of Creation, which lay on the ground by Matthew's limp body. Creation was already broken—  _Yes, think about the other Relics and_ _ **not**_ _what Alfred_ _was asking her to d_ _o_ — and Knowledge was buried somewhere far below _._  Humanity had functioned just fine without the Relics for the past eighty years. They did not need Choice to choose their path. But still, Ruby hesitated.

Creation's destruction—  _Dammit, Yang_ — was an accident. If she destroyed Choice, then she, Ruby Rose, would be intentionally destroying something created by the Gods. The thought made her uncomfortable but not as uncomfortable as  _stabbing her friend with a sword—_

Alfred read her expression— or most likely saw her debating her choices. "You can try to cut it out if you want."

Ruby's gorge rose.

America chuckled weakly. "That's what I thought. Destruction is as versatile as any other Relic. You can destroy Choice without hurting me. I bet I won't feel a thing."

Ruby could not find her voice, but apparently her choices spoke for her.

America smiled and settled more comfortably on the ground. "Better keep still." he whispered.

How could he still joke at a time like this? Looking into his eyes, Ruby could see the terror there. Was he afraid of what may happen if she stabbed him? Was he afraid of what might happen if she didn't? Or was he scared she would hurt him again?

"I'm sorry." she blurted. "After Blake, I treated you terribly. I blamed you when it wasn't your fault—"

Alfred reached out and squeezed her hand, silencing her. "Hey, enough of that. I  _never_  blamed you, Ruby. I knew you were hurting and did not mean what you said. But for the record, I forgive you, so forgive yourself, okay?"

Ruby tried not to think about how that sounded less like a demand and more like a final request. "Okay."

Alfred relaxed and looked up at the sky. "Whenever you're ready. Don't warn me."

Ruby's voice caught in her throat. She took a breath and pointed the Relic of Destruction at some leaves at his side, just above his hipbone. The futile hope that maybe that wound would not be fatal should the worst happen haunted her and she gulped, hands quivering. What if Silver Eyes could influence her somehow? What if the urge to  _destroy_ lingered in her subconscious mind and she hurt Alfred?

Again, Alfred saw her indecision. "Hey. Look at me." Ruby forced her gaze to meet calm blue, gold-surrounded eyes. "I trust you, Ruby."

He really, truly did. She could see it in his face.

Ruby swallowed hard and nodded. She did not give herself more time to hesitate.

The Relic of Destruction sank into Alfred's flesh, right above his hip bone, but no blood blossomed from his skin. The lack of visible damage did not soothe Ruby's frayed nerves. She exhaled shakily and carefully sliced through the leaves tattooed into Alfred's skin. There was no resistance. It was as if she was cutting through nothing but air. That did not make it any easier, and she forced herself to focus only at the task at hand.

The Relic of Choice glowed brighter in defiance, leaves shimmering like oddly-shaped suns, before its light abruptly died out. Ruby exhaled shakily and lifted the Relic of Destruction out of—  _away_  from Alfred. Did it work? It seemed to work. The Relic of Choice's light was gone so that meant it was dead, right? But what if it still worked because all the pieces were in Alf— in there?

Ruby gulped and shut her eye, gripping the Relic of Destruction in her hand.

_I am taking a leaf off his side. It is stuck to his side. It is not inside him, it is stuck to his side and I need to take it off._

Before she knew it—  _Thank the Gods for denial._ — she had removed the two ends but could not bear to do more. Ruby desperately hoped it was enough. She slashed at the removed pieces of Relic and they disintegrated into golden dust before fading away. The remaining leaves were visible under America's skin, but they would be nearly unnoticeable when his skin was a healthier color. The Relic of Choice was destroyed.

_I did it._

Ruby immediately dropped the sword and fell to her knees, dry-heaving.

Alfred craned his neck and studied the seven remaining pieces of the broken Relic of Choice with a curious detachment. His eyes flicked up to her, and they were back to their normal blue with no golden glow remaining. He smiled faintly.

"That's better. I don't feel…  _strained_  anymore. I knew you could do it." His eyes fluttered. "I… have to sleep now."

Ruby's heart turned into a lump of ice. " _No!_  You can't di— go to sleep. You are  _not_  allowed to sleep, you hear me?" The protests sounded weak even to her own ears.

Alfred made as if to lift his hand but it remained limply at his side. "I'm not dying." he whispered. "I promise."

Ruby was not sure she believed him. She pretended she did, even as she grasped his hand and tears streamed down her cheek. "I'll take you to Arthur."

Alfred smiled. "Thank you."

His blue eyes slipped closed, his hand loosened around hers, and his chest did not move again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write. It took me forever. I had to keep rewriting it because I was not satisfied with it and I just could not seem to get it right. I hope it turned out okay.
> 
> See you again soon. (Probably tomorrow.)


	43. Laid To Rest

The day of the memorial, it did not rain. Canada peered up at the bright blue sky and wondered if nature was mocking him. Him and everyone else who gathered outside a small town on the island of Patch to mourn everyone they had lost.

Ruby, Weiss, Oscar, and Team JNPR were seated directly in front of him. The youngest girl's shoulders were shaking as Weiss wrapped her arm around them, pulling her close. Most of the other nations— with the exception of England— were to his right, their faces mostly blank except Italy and France, the former of whom was openly crying while the latter of whom looked close to tears.

Many faces were unknown to him, but he could spot people he knew among the crowd. Team CFVY, Glynda Goodwitch and the other teachers, Neptune— who supported a quiet Sun—Russel and Sky of Team CRDL,… Even Yang's mother was there, though she sat silently in the shadowy boughs of a tree where most people would not notice her.

Canada glanced to his left at Yang, who stared stoically straight ahead with unblinking violet eyes. Her sorrow churned sickeningly around her, clinging to his nose like the smell of rotten food and he gritted his teeth.

It was difficult to keep lucid with all this grief, sorrow, and anger swirling around him, but thankfully America could keep him from giving in to dark instincts. His twin leaned on Canada's shoulder, skin ashen and face drawn. It was a physical, emotional, and mental struggle to get him here, but America insisted he attend the memorial for everyone who fell in what was becoming known as the Battle of Vale.

So many people had fallen in the war against Salem. More than could be counted, and many that Canada could not name. He watched as a stone memorial filled with names was unveiled and his gaze— sharpened by the Grimm essence in his veins— focused on one near the top.

_Blake Belladonna._

The Grimm chafed against Canada's grief but he ignored it, seeking out the other names he knew. His sight rested on one of the larger names on the memorial and he pressed his lips together so he would not snarl. As far as most knew, Ozpin had fallen during the Fall of Beacon. They would never know he had died months later when Salem did and his curse was finally lifted. Canada could honestly say he was glad to run into Oscar and find the lack of Ozpin in the boy's head.

" _Ozpin is gone."_   _Oscar had confirmed briefly with the stunned look of someone who was surprised they still breathed. "He vanished when Salem fell."_

No one had said anything, but Canada could smell the emotions of the people around him. None of them had spoken a word, but some thought "Good riddance." Canada did not betray their privacy by bringing attention to their feelings. He himself did not know how to feel about Ozpin's final but peaceful death. Salem lost, Ozpin won, and he got what he wanted: the end.

It may be the Grimm talking, but Canada could not grieve for him.

As Glynda walked up to give a speech, America shifted uncomfortably. Canada glanced at his brother, keeping his head low so his hood still covered his face. Thankfully, he was not the only one wearing a hood as part of their attire. It would be more than awkward if someone saw his reddish-eyed, Grimm-veined face now.

"Are you doing okay?" Canada whispered, focusing on his brother's issues instead of his own.

The look America shot him suggested he knew what his twin was doing and his flare of annoyance adding to that suggestion. He did not say what he felt and Canada did not ask. "I'm fine. Just antsy. I hate sitting around."

Canada bit back a wince. America would probably punch him if he showed him pity now. "Do you want to leave?"

America hesitated and glanced around self-consciously before nodding. "Yeah. I know it's selfish but this isn't really helping my mood."

Maple, how Canada wished he could not sense the dark cloud of depression that lingered at the edge of his brother's consciousness.

"I understand." was all he said, and he  _did_ , even if his problems with the atmosphere were different than America's.

Canada stood up and murmured an apology to Yang. She wordlessly understood what they wanted and stood up as well.

"I'm going too." she mumbled. Canada did not ask if she was sure. The cloak of grief that hung over her was answer enough.

He stood behind America and carefully wheeled him out of the lines of chairs. America sat stiff-backed and stared straight ahead, and Canada did not need a Grimm to sense his brother's desire to be away from people. Again, he—  _furiously_ — understood why. A few people watched them go before they awkwardly forced their unwanted gazes away. Canada could smell the emotions directed at his twin, stares filled with pity. The urge to turn on those people and rip them to shreds was there, lingering in the back of his thoughts, but he ignored it because Alfred needed him to remain  _calm_.

When America had woken and been unable to use his legs, the only reason he and Canada had not gone into hysterics was because Ruby had gone into hysterics for them. She had believed it was the Relic of Destruction that hurt him, but America managed to calm her down by reassuring her that was not the case.

It was almost funny in a twisted sort of way that America had been the calm and comforting one when he was the one who woke up paraplegic. Once Ruby had left, it was soon proven that her sorrow was the only thing keeping his at bay, for when she hurried out of the room, America had immediately burst into tears.

It had taken all of Canada's self-control to ignore the Grimm's instincts to destroy the source of the  _infuriating_ sadness. It had also taken a few warning snarls to stop England from ushering him out of the room. Canada may have a Grimm parasite inside him, but he was not going to hurt America. His mind flashed back to when Salem had controlled him and he bit back a growl.

Never.  _Ever._ Again.

So when America woke up and could not walk, Canada stayed with him. When he nearly sank into a depression again, Canada stayed with him. When he received a wheelchair and stared at it with an utterly hopeless expression, Canada stayed with his brother because he would  _not_  leave him alone again.

England's guess was that the Relic of Choice to blame for America's injuries. Rather than make Canada despair, that made him hopeful that recovery was possible. America  _would_  walk again soon. Canada knew it. His brother would not let a godforsaken Relic keep him down. He was too stubborn for that.

The walk to Taiyang's house was rather peaceful. The weather was nice, if slightly warm, and the path was smooth enough for Canada to push America's wheelchair with little problems. He could feel Raven following them but she did not reveal herself, keeping out of sight behind them. Perhaps it was Yang's battle instincts, but she soon realized they were being followed. Canada caught her arm before she could transform her weapons.

"It's Raven."

Yang's lips thinned. Anger and confusion surrounded her in a—  _alluring infuriating_ _ **make it stop**_ — cloud. She raised her voice. "Oh really? It looks like Mother wants to walk with us. How nice."

Was her anger and sarcasm because of the already bad day, or because of Raven herself? Canada had no intention to ask. To Raven's credit, she did not continue to linger out of sight. Instead she walked into view with a casual gait. Neither her face nor aura showed any unease or discomfort. In fact, she almost seemed bored.

Yang stared dully at her mother, lips pressed together and fists clenched. "What do you want?"

She did not show it, but Canada could sense the slight conflict in her tone as her mood soured. Canada resisted the urge to  _politely_  tell Raven to leave since it was clear Yang was not sure she wanted to see her birth mother. Canada did not blame Yang in the slightest.

"I am simply here to say I am leaving." Raven stated. "I have already said farewell to my brother and Taiyang."

'Taiyang', not 'your father'. The detached dismissal of Yang's relationship to the man was noticed by her if her spike in anger was any indication.

"I'm surprised you're saying goodbye this time." Yang said neutrally.

"As am I." Raven said stoically. She looked down at America.

America stiffened and met her gaze, back straight and blue eyes sharp. Canada's muscles coiled as he prepared to spring if Raven dared say anything derogatory towards his brother. Yang's birth mother or no, he was not inclined to resist the Grimm's urges if Raven hurt him.

"You killed Atlas, correct?" Raven asked coolly.

America nodded sharply.

"...Thank you."

To Canada and Yang's shock, Raven inclined her head to America. She turned and walked away without another word. The twins and Yang mutely watched her head down the path and looked at each other.

"What was that about?" America whispered.

Canada shrugged helplessly.

He watched Raven slash the air with her sword… and disappear through a familiar _red portal_. He put the pieces together and heard America gasp in realization. Yang shot them a confused look but neither twin responded to her curiosity. She threw her hands into the air.

"Fine, keep your secrets."

"It's not our secret to tell." Canada murmured.

He hoped he was wrong. He prayed he was wrong. But suddenly Atlas's technology and Raven's outlook on life made a hell of a lot more sense. It did not excuse her actions— not even  _close_  in Canada's mind because it must have happened before Yang's birth and there was no excuse to completely abandon her family— but it explained some of them.

America scowled and crossed his arms. "Okay, I  _hate_  this. She thanks me but has nothing to say to you? What the hell?"

"Honestly, I'm over it." Yang said bluntly. "I've spent enough of my life chasing after her."

They continued on their way in silence, each locked in their own thoughts. Canada could feel America's mood souring further and took some calming breaths. At least he was getting better control, if he could call 'stop myself from running around and killing people' control. Actually with that definition, this was control and he should pat himself on the back.

The house came into sight and Yang halted in place, eyes resting on the two people who stood on the porch. Her face drained of color and her gasp drew the attention of the new visitors. Canada felt his own heart sink in realization.

Ghira and Kali Belladonna had arrived.

Canada had not been awake when the CCT had been fixed, allowing international communication once more. Nor had he been there when Ruby had called Blake's parents to tell them about their daughter's death.

According to Weiss, Yang had been the one to dial the number but had frozen up when Kali answered. Poor Ruby had to be the one to share the news. As team leader, it could be her duty, but Yang was Blake's  _partner_. Her guilt said everything she would not admit aloud, but it was obvious Blake's parents did not care about that.

The moment Kali noticed Yang standing in the driveway, she jogged up to her and pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you for bringing her home." she whispered.

Tears gathered in Yang's eyes.

Canada silently opened the door and pushed America through, leaving the three to talk. America's eyes were glassy and his grief cast a dark—  _aggravating_ — fog around him.

Canada shoved the Grimm away and hugged his twin tightly. "Everything is going to be okay."

America hugged him back. "Same to you."

Canada heard the front door open again and quickly pushed America to their shared room. With all the people staying in Taiyang's house, it was a tight fit but they managed by putting a few people in each of the rooms.

Penny lay on a bed near the window, porcelain features peaceful and relaxed. She was deactivated and still recovering from activating her Aura. Or was it letting her Aura out from confinement? Whatever she did, it left her systems out of whack once more.

England was sitting at a desk near her, mumbling to himself as he perused his spellbook. He looked up as the twins came in and nodded once before returning to his book. He was the only nation that did not attend the memorial. Whether it was because he was busy contacting Earth or simply because he did not feel like attending, Canada could not say.

England's emotions were foggy to his senses, likely because of his emotion-based Semblance. If it  _was_  because of his Semblance, then England was likely manipulating the emotions he gave off to try to make Canada more comfortable.

"Any updates?" he asked, as was his habit as of late.

To his surprise, England nodded. "Yes. I finally managed to contact Norway. It turns out Tony created a weapon that killed the Grimm."

America started. "What? The Grimm collapsed because of  _Tony_?"

England glanced sidelong at him. "Yes. He created a bio-weapon to destroy them because he was tired of them hurting you." There was something he was not saying, but Canada did not ask.

For the first time in a while, a bright smile stretched across America's face. "Why do you sound so grumpy? That's  _awesome!_  He weakened Salem and saved our butts."

"Hmm." England grunted noncommittally. He glanced at Canada and met his unnatural gaze full-on. "Tony is creating something to get rid of your… problem. He claims it should not be difficult since the Grimm is only bonded with your body, not your soul. He wants to make sure it works before any of us return. We have a few weeks and then we can leave."

The Grimm inside Canada did not react. Canada himself merely froze and stared at England with a puzzled expression. England's promise of a cure for his affliction failed to reach him and he continued staring.

"We're going home?" America asked in a small voice.

His emotions were a whirlwind. Joy, fear, sadness, alarm, confusion, unease, anticipation. It made Canada's teeth clench. The fake smile he tried and failed to give them only made that urge stronger. Canada thought about America's face after he punched him and that urge died a swift death.

"That's great." America lied.

Neither of his brother's believed him. Nor did they call him out on his lie. Not now, when he gripped the arms of his wheelchair with white fingers and he looked so close to shattering.

England cleared his throat. "It has already been decided that Remnant will remain a secret, as our presence and Earth will remain a secret here. It's best that our worlds do not learn of each other yet. Neither of us are ready."

XXXXXXX

_Just one step._

_Come on, it's just one step._

_**One** _ _… step._

America gritted his teeth and pushed himself out of his wheelchair. Twinges of pain lanced down his spine but he powered through it, focused on his task. He carefully placed his foot on the bathroom floor and his leg buckled. He clung to the wheelchair and muffled a curse as he pulled himself into it. Apparently he was not quiet enough because the bathroom door slammed open.

"What are you  _doing_?" England demanded. He stepped into the tiny bathroom and his scowl deepened. "How did you even get in here?"

America crossed his arms and glared at the tile floor. "Everything is wheelchair accessible because of Qrow. And I was trying to stand up to wash my hands."

England's eye twitched. "Is that why you sent Canada to get food? Because you knew he'd stop you from doing  _stupid_ things like this?"

America swallowed his anger, said nothing, and silently leaned over to wash his hands.

His lack of response did not quell England's ire. "Why are you pushing yourself like this?" he snapped. "Do you  _want_ to hurt yourself further?"

America focused on the suds his hands created. "I  _want_  to be able to walk home." he mumbled.

England was silent a beat too long. America dried his hands, wheeled past him and might have hit him in the leg with the edge of his wheelchair. He would like to claim it was some type of childish vengeance but to be honest he was not in the mood for that level of pettiness. It really  _was_  an accidental collision because he wasn't used to this  _stupid_ wheelchair. America's eyes burned and he gritted his teeth.

_Stupid wheelchair. I can't wait to be rid of you._

He  _would_  heal and regain the ability to walk. He  _had_  to. Anything less was not acceptable, and not just because he was determined to recover from what the Relic of Choice had done to him.

America did not want to go home in a wheelchair. He did not want to appear in front of the other nations like  _this_. He knew it was stupid and arrogant and egotistical, but he could not bear the thought of going home while so visibly damaged. Worse, along with his shame, there was a lot of guilt there too because would recover, while others— like Qrow— would not.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your situation could be worse._

America blinked and realized England was brushing a hand through his hair. His brother's green eyes were soft— with empathy or pity?— as he calmly and methodically ruffled America's golden locks.

"I understand." England said quietly. No judgment. No pity. Just a simple statement.

America bit his lip and ordered his eyes to stop burning. He looked at the floor and not England. "Mattie's taking a while. He might need help."

England saw through his request to be left alone and nodded. The desire to scream— at him, at his stupid useless legs, at the whole damn world— clawed its way up America's throat but he swallowed it. He stopped beside Penny's bed and waited until his brother's footsteps retreated before putting his head in his hands. Here he went again, feeling sorry for himself. Why did he keep doing this to himself?

_I've always been self-deprecating. Isn't that right, Vale?_

The silence that answered him hit him like a physical blow to the chest and his vision blurred with tears.

"Alfred F. Jones." America jumped and looked to Penny, who stared back at him with calm green eyes. "You are grieving."

"And you're awake." America said. He hastily wiped at his eyes. "What, are we stating the obvious?"

Penny frowned at him. She scanned him— likely with both her eyes and whatever technical mechanisms she had uploaded in there— and her frown deepened. "You are injured."

"I'll get better." America said flatly, unwilling to elaborate or talk about it.

He shifted in his wheelchair and resisted the urge to burn it. Sure, parts of it were made of metal but he was pretty sure he could make his fire hot enough to melt it if he really wanted to. He wondered if Vale could do that, once upon a time…

"We're returning to Earth soon." America said, changing the subject. "What do you want to do? Do you want to stay here or go to Earth?"

The question seemed to catch Penny off guard. She looked around and pointed at herself.

America had to chuckle at the action. "You did not think I would just leave you here, did you?"

"No. Such actions do not align with your character." Penny stated. "I was merely uncertain others would agree with your sentiment."

"If they have a problem with it I'll kick their asses." America said cheerfully.

"I am aware." Penny sat down and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "I will always protect you."

That was answer enough for where she wished to go.

America smiled wanly. "Because it's your mission?"

"Because you are my friend." Penny stated. She hesitated. "Alfred, do you recall the conversation we had about my relation to Penny Polendina?"

"Yeah." America eyed her sharply. "You aren't questioning your individuality again, are you? You're your own person."

Penny's lips twitched upward. "I am aware. That part of the conversation is not what I mean to bring up in this conversation. You offered the idea that I declare I am Penny Polendina's sister to help differentiate myself from her. But the truth is…" Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I would rather be  _your_  sister."

America's breath hitched.

"I care about you, Alfred F. Jones." Penny said. "According to my data banks and the research I have conducted, my feelings align with 'familial love'."

A startled laugh burst out of America. "Well, that's a good thing because I'm not into the whole romance type. I'd rather hang out and play video games. Or go on adventures. Or eat. Or bug Kiku. Or—" He continued to ramble, because yes it was rambling, and wow this was  _not_  how he expected this conversation to go. Eventually his brain started working again and he took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm good. Sorry about that. You surprised me." He smiled. "In a good way."

Penny blinked. "Have I miscalculated in how you would react to this statement?"

"No." America said instantly. "Like I said, I'm just surprised. And… honored." His brow crinkled. "You see me as a brother?"

Penny thought about it. "We protect each other. We cook meals together. You teach me things. I keep you out of trouble." She ignored America's indignant squawk and nodded once. "Yes. I see us as siblings."

America's lips twitched and stretched into a smile. "Then that's what we are." he declared.

Penny's head tipped. "Is such a statement factual? Usually more steps are required before a sibling relationship is declared."

America shrugged. "Why? Arthur found me in a grassy plain and we became brothers. It's not that strange."

"Then I shall initiate the proper response protocol for your grief." Penny decided.

She hugged him. America twitched in her hold, but her gentle, warm arms were so different from Roman's bruising grip that he soon relaxed. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and realized his own shoulder were shaking with sobs. Penny's embrace was a little stiff and awkward from her janky mechanisms but in that moment it was the most comforting gesture America had ever received. Soon, his tears ran out and his eyes dried, leaving him feeling drained.

He pulled away from Penny, gaze on his hands. "Thank you."

Penny inclined her head. "It is unhealthy to hold your emotions inside. I have learned that through much testing and error."

America raised a knowing eyebrow. "'Testing', huh?"

Penny's nose wrinkled. "That statement was false. It was fear that kept me from activating my Aura." She sounded deeply dissatisfied with that fact.

"At least you're self-aware." America encouraged.

"And you are upset and denying it." Penny said.

America flinched.

Penny tipped her head, eyes sharp and unblinking. "If you want to talk, we can. If you do not want to talk, we can do that as well."

America remained silent. He knew before hearing the soft footsteps of his twin that his rampant emotions were going to draw Canada's attention. A cool hand touched his shoulder and something broke.

"It's not just the wheelchair." America blurted. "Not really. It's..." He watched as blue flames flickered over his hands. They vanished instantly and his hands clenched into fists. "How could she  _do_  this to me? She went on and on about how sacrificing yourself for people hurt the people left behind, but she went and did it. That  _fucking_   _hypocrite!_ "

Blue flames flared over his skin. Canada flinched and America instantly extinguished the fire, gut churning with remorse.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. They didn't hurt. They just startled me."

America shot his brother a worried look. "Is your snarly friend giving you trouble?"

Canada's lips twitched at the mention of the Grimm, which had to be a first. "I've got it under control."

" _Right_." America said quietly and with some measure of disbelief. "Maybe this should wait until it's gone. I don't want to agitate you."

He knew he was avoiding the subject of Vale, but both Canada and Penny seemed content to let him. For now.

England finally returned with food. Penny happily accepted the mashed potatoes, but only after being reassured that France had been the one to make them, not England. England's huffing and grumbling was so wonderfully normal, and America could almost forget about Vale and the wheelchair he sat in. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, swallowed, and waited for England to take a bite of his own meal before casually turning to him.

"Penny's our sister now." America said brightly.

Canada smiled. England looked completely  _not_  surprised, to America's disappointment. He did not even have the decency to adopt a fake-confused expression for America's amusement.

_Jerk_ , America thought fondly.

"If you are America and Canada's sister, I suppose you can be mine as well." England grunted.

Penny looked at England, then America, then Canada, then back again. She stepped in front of the green-eyed nation and raised her arms expectantly. England rolled his eyes and gently— but with much grumbling— hugged her.

Penny beamed.

XXXXXXX

"No." Taiyang stated. "You're not coming."

A thousand arguments circled in Ruby's head and lingered on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed them. She glanced at Weiss and Yang and saw the same arguments being held in check, though she did not blame them for keeping their silence. Taiyang had used his stern Dad voice, and although all three of the girls were old enough to ignore it if they wished— and Weiss and JNPR truly had little reason to listen— listen they did.

Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Sun, and JNPR wanted to help with the cleanup of Vale. Not only because it was their duty, but because it was  _not_  going well. Not every Grimm had been disintegrated when Tony blew up their source. Many still roamed the streets, mostly ones that had not been spawned in by the Grimm Dragon. It appeared that the Grimm were no longer forming— because the ooze they spawned in were gone or because Salem was dead?— but there were still too many to handle.

Too many buildings held Grimm. Too many streets were too dangerous for anyone with little training to traverse. If people tried to move back to Vale, they would find Beowolves in their basements and Nevermore on their roofs. It had not been long, but even the stubbornest of Huntsmen were beginning to admit the City of Vale was a lost cause.

As a result, the survivors had moved to other places. Most had moved to the little island of Patch and now Patch was turning into the center of…  _something_. Ruby was hesitant to call it a Kingdom yet, but  _something_  was certainly forming around what used to be a simple island in the Kingdom of Vale. The empty hole she felt after Vale—  _Amber_ — sacrificed herself was being filled.

"Dad, we're all healed up." Yang said, breaking her silence. "Even Weiss is. I get not wanting us to go when one of us is injured but we're all ready to fight again.

"That's not it." Taiyang shook his head and gently put his hand on his shoulder. "You kids have done enough. You saved the world. Take a breather. Besides, aren't your friends leaving soon? You should spend time with them." His eyebrow quirked knowingly.

Ruby grimaced. She did not want to think about the nations' impending departure from Remnant. Half of her friends were leaving. Yes, they were going home, which was great but it was not like Ruby could go visit them.

It had been agreed that there would be no contact between Remnant and Earth for a  _long_  time, because apparently three Grimm Spawners had attacked big cities and the governments of Earth could not hide it. The world knew about 'big demonic monsters' attacking, and if they found out about Remnant— as far as they would know, the 'source' of those monsters— now, they might blame the Grimm's homeworld for it, despite their lessened threat. At least, that was what Weiss and Arthur implied.

_Ew, politics._

"You can spend the rest of your lives being Huntsmen and Huntresses." Qrow added. He wheeled himself up to the door and handed Taiyang another cartridge of Fire Dust. "How about you just be kids for now?"

"We're not kids anymore." Ruby pointed out.

"I'm a nation." Sun muttered under his breath.

Ruby cast a glance at him and looked away. What Emerald had done to him left no lasting effects on the personification of Vacuo. He was as strong, quip-prone, and cheerful as ever, though sometimes Ruby saw her grief reflected in his bright blue eyes. She had a feeling she would forever be haunted by the look on his face when he realized why Blake was not with them. At least Neptune was there to provide understanding and emotional support. The blue-haired Huntsman had taken his friend's secret rather well.

Qrow ruffled Ruby's hair, pulling her out of her thoughts. "You'll always be kids to me, kiddo."

"We should have a no-worries day." Nora interjected. She grabbed Ren's arm and bounced up and down. "Can we can we can we?"

"Why are you asking me?" Ren asked dryly.

Nora zipped over to Jaune and grabbed his arm. "Can we can we can we?"

Jaune looked very Ren-like as he sighed. Pyrrha muffled a laugh with her hand.

"I'm fine with that." Weiss mentioned.

Nora grinned at her. Weiss dodged her lunge and brushed nonexistent dust from her dress. She looked up at Tai with lips pressed thin.

"Please watch out for my sister in the field."

Taiyang inclined his head. "She's doing fine, but I already planned to."

Even Ruby knew he was not referencing Winter's fighting ability. She was as precise as focused as ever, even if she attacked the Grimm with a bit more viciousness than expected. Ruby had seen that clearly enough when a Beowolf stumbled upon their house. It never knew what hit it. Although Winter's anger was controlled, it was still startling to see her like this. Startling, but understandable. Uncle Qrow said it was because "Jimmy was an ass who sacrificed himself" and Ruby was inclined to agree.

It was too bad Winter spent most of her time in Vale. She and Alfred should talk to each other about Ironwood and Vale, respectively. Then Ruby remembered what Ironwood had done to Alfred and realized maybe that was not a good idea. She hoped Alfred would talk to someone though. Just like she hoped Yang would talk to her.

She still did not know what Yang was thinking when she jumped out of that airship and pursued Adam. She would not pry, but hopefully Yang would tell her one day. She never wanted to see her sister like that again.

They said goodbye to Taiyang. Ruby watched him head to Sterlyn's airship with little fear, knowing he would come back. Once he was gone, the teenagers looked at each other.

"Sooo where are our other buddies?" Nora asked.

"Feliciano's making some type of pasta for lunch." Jaune mentioned. "Lovino's helping him."

"The others are out back." Ren added.

Ruby bit back the question if Alfred was there as well. He still could not walk, but he could stand for a little bit before having to sit down again. It was improvement, and it gave her hope that the nations' claims that he would heal were true.

They grabbed a bunch of games and food and put them in a wagon— stacking it up so the pile nearly fell over— before heading out back. Zwei noticed the food and followed them, tongue lolling and small tail wagging. All of the nations plus Oscar were there. The boy was sitting under a tree and reading a book, while Francis sat nearby and talked to Penny. From what Ruby could hear, he was telling her different recipes.

Jett sat in the dirt and happily petted a small brown bunny, which he randomly placed in Alfred's lap. The bunny instantly settled down and seemed content to stay there as Alfred smiled and petted it. Matthew sat nearby with Arthur, probably keeping his distance so he would not scare the bunny.

Matthew noticed them first, and looked up, nostrils flaring. It was kinda weird how he could sense their emotions but Ren could do something like that so it was not that weird. Since they were so isolated, Matthew was not bothering to wear his hood, revealing his pale and black-veined skin to the world. His appearance still made her a bit uneasy, but Yang's eyes flashed red too so again, it was not that weird. Ruby tried not to worry about him, because that would upset him and she did not want to upset her friend.

Alfred followed his twin's gaze and grinned at Ruby. "Hey." He held up the rabbit. "Wanna pet this adorable ball of fluff?"

The bunny's nose twitched. Pyrrha strode up and patted the rabbit's head, making its eyes close in content.

Weiss wrinkled her nose and held back. "Do you know where that wild animal has been?"

"Nope." Jett said brightly. "Don't worry, he's not a venomous snake. As Al said, he's a harmless ball of fluff."

"Rabbits are still wild animals." Weiss muttered.

She still went over and petted the bunny. Zwei whined at the attention he was not getting and Yang picked him up, cooing at him. His tail instantly began wagging again.

"What's this?" Arthur asked, nodding at the wagon.

"We're having a no-worries day again." Nora said promptly.

_One last one before you leave_ , Ruby thought but did not say.

Sorrow pierced her heart and Matthew looked at her. His eyes softened with understanding, and Ruby felt herself relax. She grabbed Remnant: The Game and hesitantly held it out.

"Wanna play?"

Alfred saw what game she picked and grinned. "Mattie's gonna kick your butts."

" _No!_ " Yang snarled. "Emperor Curly's reign has  _ended_. He is going  _down_."

Ruby was almost certain this was the first time since Beacon that she heard Matthew laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could have been spread out over a few chapters but it didn't work out that way. I've been ending a lot of chapters with downer stuff lately so I thought, why not give a hopeful ending this time?
> 
> The last chapter will be posted tomorrow.
> 
> See you there.


	44. The Road to Recovery

It was the beginning of the seventh week since Salem's defeat when England finally got the call. Or magical-message. Or whatever way it was Norway used to contact him. Tony had completed his tests and was ready to cure Canada. Vale was  _go_ — Salem was dead and the Grimm were no longer a world-ending threat. England and the others' portal necklaces were ready to be used.

There were no more reasons they had to stay on Remnant.

_We're going home._   _ **I'm** _ _going home._

Even as he stood in Taiyang's front yard with the rest of the nations, America still could not believe it. The sun was shining, Salem was dead, Vale was  _gon_ — and they were going home. Everyone was there to say goodbye.  _Almost_  everyone. Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, Oscar, Sterlyn, Sun, Neptune, Winter, Qrow, Taiyang, Whitley, and Klein were all there to say farewell.

America shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair and stared intently at his legs, ordering them not to fail him now. He was still not completely healed yet, but he could stand and walk for short distances. England said Germany was waiting for them at America's mansion but America meant what he said. He did not want to appear back on Earth in this wheelchair. He just had to last long enough to walk back into his home and he would be content.

He hoped.

As the final bag was handed over to Australia by Ren, who muttered a low thanks, everyone paused in silence. They were all stalling, and every one of them knew it. Even England did not look to be in any particular hurry to leave. No one wanted to say goodbye.

But of course the quiet was broken by none other than Nora.

"Goodbye hug!" Nora cried.

She tackled Canada and dragged him over to America, looping one arm around each twin's neck. The hug she gave them knocked their heads together but neither twin complained. The other former students crowded around the two, pressing in on them on all sides as they trapped them in a mess of arms.

America did not feel suffocated, nor did he wince when Weiss's hand accidentally brushed his shoulder blade. Instead he wrapped his arms— as much as he could, anyway— around the closest people, who just happened to be Ruby, Pyrrha, Weiss, and Jaune. He heard Ruby squeak and loosened his grip slightly, shooting her a confused look.

Ruby smiled weakly. "I think your strength is coming back."

_Because Vale is gone_ , America thought. He managed to smile. "Cool. Think I can throw cars again?"

"Please don't." Canada muttered.

"Please  _do_." Nora cheered.

Her gleaming gaze locked onto Taiyang's vehicle. The Huntsman looked torn between shooting her a warning look or sighing. In the end, he did both. Ruby broke away from the twins to go hug England, who twitched in surprise before returning the embrace. Nora tackled Romano— who would forever deny that he screamed in terrified surprise— and the Huntsmen and nations mingled as they bade their farewells.

Pyrrha stayed with America— and Penny, who had crept back in after lingering in a defensible position outside of the group hug— while Yang dragged Canada away. The others noticed Pyrrha's lingering presence and shuffled aside to give them some space. Weiss wandered over to England and America heard her thanking him for saving her. He hid a smile as England mumbled that it was no problem, cheeks going red as Winter thanked him as well.

"Thank you." Pyrrha said.

America quirked an eyebrow at her. "For…?"

"Being my friend." Pyrrha said simply.

The twisting sensation in America's gut eased. "Same to you. I'm going to miss you, Py-Py."

Pyrrha stood in silent contemplation for a time before she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. "I don't want to say goodbye." she whispered.

America bit his lip, vision blurry. "Me neither. Do you want to…?" He did not need to finish his question.

For a moment, Pyrrha hesitated. Then she resolutely shook her head. "Remnant is my home. I wish I could visit Earth though."

"Maybe someday."America said.

Her lips quirked upward. "Maybe." She looked at Penny. "Take care of yourself."

"I shall do my best." Penny intoned. "'Take care of yourself', as well, Pyrrha."

The sound of a snapping branch sent a ripple of alarm through the group. Ruby shot back to America's side while his fingers wrapped around Cobalt Striker. Next to him, Canada settled into a battle-ready crouch and Penny's weapons shifted. Nothing lunged out of the woods so they slowly relaxed. America slowly sheathed his bat, left jittery from the adrenaline rushing through his veins

Ruby's eye followed the weapon as it returned to its holster. "Are you going to rebuild Matthew's weapon?"

America did not even need to think about it. "Yes. Speaking of which…" He handed a notebook to Oscar. "Here you go. Ruby can help you build it."

Oscar's brow furrowed and he flipped the notebook open. His eyes went round. "You designed a weapon for me?"

" _Weapon? Design?_ " Ruby squealed. "Let me see!"

She dashed over in a blur of rose petals to peer over Oscar's shoulder. America had to blink, because the kid was just an inch or two taller than the older girl. A devious grin flashed across Yang's face. She opened her mouth but Weiss clapped her hand over it and shot her a look of warning. Her nose wrinkled, suggesting Yang had licked her hand.

Ruby was too busy fawning over the design for Oscar's new staff. One scan in and she was already rambling about the specs, and how to integrate the transformation mechanisms, and firing questions about which types of Dust he wanted to implement. Oscar looked more perplexed than overwhelmed, though he shifted from foot to foot.

"Um. Maybe we should do this later?" he asked awkwardly.

Ruby froze mid-ramble and turned red. "No, not again!" She yanked her hood up over her head, cheeks burning.

America stifled a laugh at her expense.  _At least some things haven't changed._

Weiss nudged Ruby and cleared her throat, jerking her chin at the twins.

Ruby squinted at her in confusion but balked. "Oh, right."

She sped into the house and back out, skidding to a halt in front of Canada. She handed him a small device that looked kind of like a tablet. Canada's brow furrowed but he held it so both he and America could see the screen. A press of a button turned it on and America's breath caught as a picture of the four members of Team RWBY appeared.

"It's like a digital photo album." Ruby explained needlessly. "We compiled a bunch of pictures and put them on. So… So you remember us."

"Like we'd ever forget you." America said, and pretended his voice did not sound choked up.

He went through the photos and noticed some new ones along with the old. He could only see the distinction between new and 'old' since Blake was in some of them, while she was absent in others. He flipped to a new screen and immediately turned off the tablet, making it go dark. Canada did not demand to know why he had done so. They both had seen the picture of Amber, sitting serenely outside a cafe somewhere in Vale. America did not ask how they had gotten it, or from where. He merely smiled along with his twin.

"Thank you." they chorused.

Yang shivered. "Okay, I think that's the first time you've done the twin-speak thing. It's creepy."

America glanced slyly at Canada— who reflected his devious look— and together they stared at Yang. "What twin-speak thing?"

Yang shuddered. "I admit I walked into that one but stop. It's  _creepy!_ "

America cackled while Canada wryly shook his head.

England glanced at the sky and cleared his throat. "It's time."

Ruby's face fell and she rushed over to hug the twins one last time. America felt her quivering and knew how desperately she wanted to run off with them so they did not have to leave. A part of America did not want to leave either, but they had to return home.

"Bye, Ruby." he murmured and pretended he did not hear her sniffle.

Canada breathed in sharply and abruptly pulled away. He walked quickly over to England, viciously rubbing his face. England did not say anything. Instead he beckoned to the personifications, who gathered dutifully around him. Australia paused by America and offered his arm. America readied himself and forced himself out of his chair, clinging to Australia's arm.

"Don't strain yourself." Canada warned.

America hummed vaguely and ignored the slight tremor in his legs. The humans called their final goodbyes, with Ruby, Yang, Nora, Sun, Jaune, and even Weiss waving vigorously. The nation's all linked arms and England shattered the green gemstone on his necklace. Green light flared, and they were gone.

XXXXXXX

Ruby watched the light from Arthur's magic fade and lowered her hand.

Yang also lowered her hand and wiped at her eyes. "Dammit. I never dethroned Emperor Curly."

"I'm sure you'll find someone else to lose to someday." Weiss said dryly.

Ruby giggled and Yang gave a watery chuckle. They watched the others wander away, convening into small groups as they headed inside.

"...What do we do now?" The question burst out of Ruby before she realized she had it.

Her partner and sister exchanged glances.

"We be Huntresses, of course." Weiss said. "There are still Grimm out there and I think we've vacationed long enough."

"As have I." The girls looked up at Sun, who sat in a treetop above them. He landed lightly next to Yang and straightened. "I'm... going home soon." he revealed. "With the Grimm mostly gone, things are going to be changing in Vacuo. I guess I have to be there to see it since the Kingdom's health is important to me." His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"If they try to keep you from leaving we'll come bust you out." Yang swore.

Sun blinked as though startled, then awarded her with a blinding grin. "Thanks. Neptune's coming with me so at least I won't be alone. I'll keep in touch."

"You'd better." Yang mock-threatened.

Sun grinned and held up a fist. Yang bumped it, mimicking his smile. Sun's smile faded into a serious look.

"I'm just a call away if you need me."

With that he vanished like a brightly-colored and happy blond ninja. Ruby's own grin faltered and she glanced hesitantly at her sister. Yang's jaw was tense and her lips thin. Her eyes were a sorrowful blue.

"Yang?" Ruby asked timidly. "What's wr—?"

"I never got to say goodbye."

Ruby felt a bubble of sorrowful panic when she realized who Yang was talking about. Panic because her sister was finally talking. Sorrow because…

She latched onto Yang's side while Weiss places a hand on her back as she broke down.

"I spent so long angry at her and I never told Blake how much she meant to me..."

"She knew." Ruby whispered. "It'd take an idiot not to notice." Weiss added, lofty tone slightly choked "Blake could be oblivious, but she's not that oblivious."

"She was, sometimes." Yang said shakily. "Remember how she reacted after she let slip she was a Faunus? She should've known I— we wouldn't care. I'm her— I was her partner. We were supposed to be partners forever…" Her face crumpled. "It's not fair. Adam will reincarnate but she won't. I finished Blake's fight for her, but he'll return. She  _won't_. She's  _gone_. It isn't right."

Ruby clung to her sister while Weiss rubbed soothing circles on her back. They stood in pained but companionable silence, and although Ruby wished it was enough to heal their hurting hearts, she knew it would not be. But they would get there. Someday.

Yang's tears eventually ran dry and they sat under one of the trees, looking at the brilliant blue sky. Ruby heard Nora's excited shouts from within the house. They were followed by a yelp, suggesting Oscar had done something to earn a tackle-hug from the Huntress. Despite her sorrow over lost friends and those she may never see again, Ruby smiled.

"What's got you happy?" Weiss questioned.

"Nothing. Everything."

"Well that makes sense, sis." Yang teased.

Ruby scowled and jabbed her playfully in the side. "You know what I mean."

"I do." Weiss admitted. "We have our whole future ahead of us."

That was not exactly what Ruby meant but it was another reason to grin. They had defeated Salem. They had saved the worlds. Ruby had done what she set out to do as a Huntress. But that did not mean their fight was over. She did not know what the future may bring but with her friends at her side, she could not wait to find out.

XXXXXXX

Green light faded to reveal a familiar yard, filled with familiar faces. Australia was the first to move, lunging forward with a joyful cry.

"Zee!"

New Zealand barely twitched as his brother slammed into him. He hugged Australia just as fiercely, and America swore he saw tears in his eyes. With his support gone, America felt his body struggling to remain standing but France took up the slack and casually sling his arm across America's back, letting him lean on him.

"Ah, the fresh Earth air. I missed it."

"I don't think there are noticeable differences between Earth and Remnant air." America pointed out dryly.

France gave a disdainful sniff. "Of course someone such as yourself would fail to notice the different aromas."

"Uh huh." America said.

He knew France was just pretending, and appreciated the gesture. It helped distract him from his nerves. The nation's had appeared with their backs to his mansion. America knew it had been damaged but did not turn around even as he heard Germany, Japan, and Prussia approach. America knew he could not delay any longer and turned around. The upper floors of the mansion looked fine. The first floor was a mess of broken windows. Germany followed his gaze and winced.

"Sorry about the mess. Your construction people are busy rebuilding the cities destroyed in the Spawner rampage and the other nations of AGATE have returned home—"

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault Salem decided to be petty." America interrupted. His grin was more natural than he expected. "Let's start over, huh? We haven't seen each other in months and that's how your greet me? Hi, Germany. Long time no see."

The discomfort in Germany's gaze eased and he clasped America's hand. "I see you are back to yourself."

America repressed a flinch. "Yep. I'm all me again." He heard Penny's weapons clink and hastily put an arm across her shoulders- and over her backpack. "Time for introductions. Germany meet Penny. Penny, this is my friend Germany."

Penny studied Germany with sharp green eyes. "I do not like you."

Germany blinked.

America gaped. "Penny—"

"You made Feliciano cry." she stated.

Italy was indeed crying. He flung himself at Germany and bowled him over, speaking rapidly in a mix of Italian, English and Latin. America politely tuned him out when he realized Italy was tearfully telling Germany about their journey. He leaned over to whisper to Penny.

"Those were tears of joy, Penny."

Her scowl faded. "I see. I redact my previous statement."

"That's good to hear." Prussia said cheerfully. He held out his hand. "I'm Prussia. Are you related to that other robot girl?"

Penny took his hand and shook it. "I am indeed a robot but Alfred is my family. I have heard tales of your 'awesomeness', Prussia."

Prussia laughed. "I like her. How long is she staying?"

"As long as she wants." America said. He noticed Canada standing off to the side and hurried to him. "You okay?"

Red-tinted violet eyes flicked to him and away. "Hmm."

That said more than it didn't.

"How about we go inside?" America said loudly.

The others murmured in agreement. The foyer was a bit of a mess, with chunks of the floor, ceiling, and walls missing, but America knew they had to be here, where Tony's lab was. Japan walked at America's side, and he could feel his friend scrutinizing him with his solemn gaze. Their eyes briefly met and Japan's lips lifted into the smallest of smiles.

"I am glad you are safe, my friend." Japan said.

America's throat felt clogged for some reason. He cleared it awkwardly. "Yeah..."

Behind him, he heard Italy gasp. "You never named your weapon? But even  _I_  named mine."

" _See?_  Italy gets it!" Prussia shouted.

"I do not see why this is a big deal." Germany said uncomfortably. "It is simply a weapon."

America leaned over to Penny. "Teasing incoming, okay?" At her nod, he winked and glared at Germany. "Would you like to repeat that about the weapon I personally made for you? You're already on thin ice with me, buddy."

Germany looked uneasy. "I am?"

"Yes." America hissed. "I will not forgive this betrayal."

The target of his ire froze in place. England looked worried but appeared to notice that Canada was trying to stifle a laugh.

"England told me what you did." America continued.

Germany's bewildered look morphed into a wary one.

America pointed accusingly at him. "I heard about that woman you saved. You became Earth's first superhero! Not cool."

Prussia cackled.

Germany looked resigned. "No one knows it is me." he protested weakly.

America scowled. "That's the  _point!_  You have a  _secret identity_  and everything." He crossed his arms and huffed. "Not. Cool."

Germany's ears definitely had a red tinge to them. He coughed into his palm, as close to flustered as he could be. "Regarding our previous topic of conversation, Italy." He said just a little too loudly. "Do you have any ideas for weapon names?"

"How about 'Oathkeeper'?" Italy offered.

Germany considered the name for less than a minute. "Alright."

Prussia's eye twitched. "After all of that heckling I did, you name it the first thing Italy suggests?"

Germany shrugged. "Why not? It is a fine name."

Prussia made a sound comparable to that of a furious cat.

A distant clopping noise reached America's ears. A second later, Uni galloped into the foyer. Her hooves skidded on the floor and she nearly smacked into the wall before she righted herself. She stood in place and stared at them for a moment as though scandalized before tossing her head and trotting up to America. She laid her head at the crook of his neck and shoulder and huffed lowly.

"Hey, girl." America murmured as he petted her mane. "I missed you." He only realized his hand was shaking when he ran it over her mane another time.

"America." a high-pitched voice greeted. He looked up, unsurprised to see Tony there. The alien said nothing more to him, merely studying him carefully. He seemed to find America's appearance satisfactory for he looked to Canada. "Canada, we should remove the Grimm parasite as soon as possible."

Canada swallowed.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" America offered.

"Yes."

"I shall guard the door." Penny decided. America knew it was her way of giving the twins space while staying nearby.

Prussia—who was not aware of the way Penny thought— raised a white eyebrow. "What's with you and red-haired bodyguard badasses?"

"Penny's hair is orange." America said, confused.

Prussia threw his hands into the air. "I'm getting a drink." he muttered and walked out.

The other nations split apart as they each exchanged tales of their adventures. Tony, America, Canada, England, France, and Penny made a much more solemn group as they headed to the alien's lab. The short walk was enough to make America's legs shake but he did not complain or ask to sit down, determined to stay at Canada's side the whole way. America peered through a door and saw side room had been converted into an operating room. He felt his stomach churn just looking at it. He forced himself to calm down— for Mattie's sake— and squeezed his brother's hand.

"So, are you excited to get rid of the icky black goop?"

"I'm absolutely ecstatic." Canada said flatly, but America knew he was, even with his nervousness.

England followed Tony into the operating room and America realized Norway was in there. The other nation did not greet them other than a slight incline of acknowledgment. He was dressed in what appeared to be a strange mix of scrubs and bio-hazard gear. Canada glanced at America, and he could see the fear swimming in his twin's violet eyes. America's pounding heartbeat eased and his smile was completely genuine.

"You're going to be fine."

Perhaps Canada could sense the absolute faith he had in his statement, but the fear slipped from his expression. He released America's hand, took a shuddering breath, and stepped into the operating room.

XXXXXXX

When Canada woke up, his twin was at his side, watching the news on his phone. America was sitting on a stool, his shirt off and fists clenched as he grumbled to himself, but Canada could see his hands shaking. His questions were answered before they could be voiced when Tony stopped circling his brother.

"You're clear."

"I could've told you that." America grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest, posture screaming 'self-conscious'.

Tony noticed Canada was awake and walked over to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like myself." Canada murmured. His heart felt lighter— literally— and no shadows danced at the edge of his mind. He sat up, looking down at his bare chest, and saw there was no sign of the Grimm essence, not even scars.

"The Grimm essence was easy enough to remove." Tony said calmly. "If it had bonded to your soul like Mantle had, that would be another story."

Canada shuddered at the thought, and nothing inside him tried to prey on the negative emotion. His relief must have shown on his face for America's own concerned look morphed into a grin. It quickly turned into a scowl.

"So since I'm not Grimm-y can I put a shirt on,  _please_?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Sure."

America huffed and turned away from him, giving Canada a clear view of his back. His breath caught.

"What?" America asked tersely, voice guarded.

Hearing that tone, Canada was so glad he could give his brother good news. "Your scars are a little lighter."

America's shoulders were tense. "You're not just saying that?" The question might have been accusatory if not for his soft tone.

"Never." Canada swore.

America's gaze dropped to his lap.

"Where did Penny, France, England, and Norway go?" Canada asked quickly.

"The android is outside. The others went to sleep." Tony said briefly. "The procedure took a lot out of the magical two and France fell asleep in his chair. Japan carried him off." The alien looked down at the tablet he held and his eyes glinted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to release the Grimm-killing toxin into the atmosphere."

With that, Tony left.

Canada shot America a worried look. "Toxin?"

"Bio-weapon." America murmured. His expression twitched and his gaze snapped up to Canada. "You remember that, right?"

"Yes." Canada assured him hastily. "The word 'toxin' just confused me."

America relaxed. "Yeah. Toxin tends to be a bad thing. Not in this case. The toxin is perfectly safe. It'll kill any remaining Grimm on Earth so we can move on with our lives."

It was then that Canada realized Tony had been waiting to release it until he was sure the infected nation was no longer the host of a Grimm parasite. He wavered between shock and feeling warm that the alien cared about him before settling on the warmth. Warmth was preferable to anything too negative. Though as much as he wanted it to, he could not avoid negative emotions.

"The Grimm essence is gone." Canada began hesitantly. "Do you want to talk about Vale now?"

America's lips pressed thin. Canada did not need a Grimm parasite to see the turmoil in his eyes. His heart twisted with guilt.

"We don't have to talk—"

"I should." America whispered. "I know what happens if I don't." He looked up at Canada with tear-filled eyes. "It's been over a month. I've had time to process things a bit. But I still don't understand. How could she  _do_  that? How could she sacrifice herself for me like that? We both had a chance to make it out."

"Her capital was dying." Canada reminded him quietly. "She wouldn't have made it."

"She  _might have_." America snapped. "The Relics were right there—"

"Creation was destroyed. There was no other way to separate you two and create a new body for Vale." Canada said bluntly, because he would not dance around the truth and let America hurt himself over this.

America visibly flinched. "I  _know_  that." he snapped. "I know but… I didn't think I was going to survive  _without_  her. I thought we were  _both_  doomed. Why am I alive when she isn't?"

"Because she wanted you to live." Canada said quietly.

America stared at him, blue eyes wide and blank, and abruptly burst into tears. Canada let his brother cry into his shoulder, struggling against tears himself. This would not stop his brother's grief— only time had the hope of doing that— but he promised himself he would be there for America, just like America was there for him. As long as it took.

Finally, America wiped at his eyes. His voice cracked. "I don't know what to do."

"Do what she wanted you to do." Canada urged him. " _Live_."

America did not respond for a long time. "It's going to take a bit for my house to get fixed up." he said abruptly. "Maybe we can go to your place?"

The question was both a denial and an offer for Canada's sake, because America knew his brother as well as Canada knew him, and Canada liked to pretend he was fine as much as his blue-eyed twin did.

"Of course." Canada said instantly. He smiled wistfully. "Kumajojo's going to be there."

"I wonder if you'll remember his name." America said innocently. He laughed when Canada smacked his shoulder.

Canada glanced at his phone and saw the news was still running. He also noticed it was an older newscast from just after the Spawner attacks. "So what does the public think happened?"

"A really bad hurricane called 'Salem'." America said flatly. "Since the attacks were only in the USA, only the USA and some of your people are really questioning what happened. The rest of the world is content to think it was a hurricane. Surprisingly, no one's come forward with footage of the Grimm, and no one is claiming superheroes and monsters exist. The government is keeping it hush-hush."

"For now." Canada murmured.

"For now." America echoed. He grinned widely, eyes glinting. " _Right no_ w it's all rumors and conspiracy theories. In the future, who knows what will happen? Guess we'll have to wait and see."

XXXXXXX

_TWENTY YEARS LATER_

REMNANT:

At nearly forty years of age, Ruby was still going strong. Yang could loudly talk about her sister slowing down in her old age, but a sweetly-spoken reminder that she was two years older would quickly silence the great and mighty Yang Xiao Long. Although she was older than she had once been, Ruby still found amusement in the thought of what Yang's awestruck fans would think if they saw her spluttering and red-faced whenever her adorable little sister successfully teased her. What would her own fans think?

Taking center stage in the final battle had brought Team Ruby— for they would always be RWBY,  _together_ , no matter how long Blake had been gone— into the spotlight, the years of fighting Grimm after it had made them into heroes that were living legends.

People rushed to meet the legendary Teams RWBY, tripped over themselves trying to shake Oscar Pine's hand, babbled and mumbled as they offered things to sign to the members of Team JNPR, and gave cheers of delight when any of these mighty Huntsmen and Huntresses came to call. The fame was kind of embarrassing. No wonder Pyrrha disliked it, though she found content on missions and in her small, isolated cottage she shared with Jaune. Though Ruby had to admit it was cool when kids came up to ask for her autograph.

So much had changed in the past twenty years, but so much was the same. The Kingdoms had kept mostly to themselves after Salem's defeat. They were by no means isolated, but they were giving each other time to heal and adjust to their new world.

The continent of Solitas was practically abandoned by everyone except those that still fought a vicious civil war on the icy land. It was practically uninhabitable, though some pockets of Dust had been found far enough from the fighting that businesses were daring to venture there. A few Huntsmen were asked to watch over the mines to make sure there was no trouble, but civilians stayed away. Nobody wanted— or needed to— make Solitas home with the Grimm's threat dwindling by the day.

The City of Vale was like Mount Glenn used to be. The city still stood, but its people were gone. Although it was empty, what remained of the Grimm still seemed attracted to it, like the city gave off more negativity than all of humanity. In her darkest moments Ruby wondered if the Relics were the reason why. Creation and Choice had been destroyed there and Knowledge was lost somewhere under the earth. She did not know where Sun had taken Destruction and she was nearly certain she did not want to know. No one needed the Relic of Destruction's power.

Instead, it had been decided the displaced people of Vale needed something new. A new Kingdom. A new home. A new place to live and fight for.

A new capital had been built on Patch, and like the Kingdoms before it, it shared its nation's name.

_Aurora._

Ruby was outside the city now, her sister and Weiss somewhere up ahead. They had returned for their annual stop at the memorial. They normally also traveled to the one in Menagerie, but Kali cautioned against it this time. Apparently the new personification of the island had revealed himself, and the Belladonnas were not sure how much he remembered yet.

It was Yang who stated they would return at a later time, her eyes flashing between red and blue. Ruby knew Yang would not blame Menagerie for what Adam had done, but if she did not want to see him, that was perfectly okay.

It was not like the three were diplomats, though Weiss was the co-CEO of Whitley's new Dust corporation. It was nowhere near the corporation that was the Schnee Dust Company but it did well enough and Whitley was happy. He, Winter, and Weiss were co-CEO's, but he did most of the business stuff, with his sisters content to continue being Huntresses. And if they happened to find new Dust deposits on their travels, wonderful.

The snap of a twig drew Ruby's attention but she did not reach for Crescent Rose. The woods around the City of Aurora had been Grimm-free for more than five years, and with the last Griffon being killed last summer— courtesy of one grinning, 'eighteen year-old' Sun Wukong, the 'son' of the Sun Wukong who fought in the final battle in Vale but 'vanished' a few years later— and the last Nevermore slain by a man known as the Wandering Huntsman— who happened to fit Hazel Rainart's description— there was little chance of any Grimm getting to the island.

"Hello?" she called instead, keeping her voice light and friendly as she greeted her likely human companion. "Is someone there?"

"Me! I'm here." A male voice called. Ruby heard a low mutter and a curse. "Damn it. First impression, and I'm making a fool of myself. Great."

A teenaged boy stepped out of the forest and onto the path, cheeks tinged red with embarrassment. He caught sight of Ruby and squeaked. "You're Ruby Rose."

"Yup." Ruby said, struggling not to laugh.

She was not a meanie— Hey, she could say meanie if she wanted to,  _so there_ — like Yang so she wouldn't cackle when a nervous and stammering fan approached her. And the boy must be a fan, if his recognition, dithering, and stuttering was any indication.

"R-Right." he stammered, cheeks aflame. "Um. That is the City of Aurora, right?" He pointed at the tall buildings just visible in the distance. Then he balked and chuckled nervously, rubbing the insides of his arms. "Uh. Of course it is. I  _know_  that it is."

Ruby hid a smile. He reminded her a bit of a younger Oscar, though this boy was less timid and burdened than Oscar used to be. He also reminded her of her younger self when she was thrown into a new social situation she was woefully unprepared for.

"Yes, that is Aurora."

"So am I."

The boy blurted the words like a confession, and Ruby's eye snapped to him, her amusement gone as she studied him closely. Looking at him, she could see he appeared to be about eighteen years old, his shaggy auburn hair and freckles making him appear younger than he was.

What caught her attention most though were his eyes. They were the color of the dawn, yellow fading into a hypnotizing mix of orange and pinkish purple. But what made her breath catch was the wisdom in those eyes, like she was not staring at a boy, but a young man who saw the entirety of a nation.

In contrast with the knowledge in his gaze, the boy— the  _nation_ — smiled, young, hesitant, and shy. "I'm Aurora. The personification of Aurora. It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Rose."

XXXXXXX

EARTH:

"Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie." America punctuated each prod he gave his brother with the call of his name, grinning behind his hand as Canada's eyebrow twitched. "Mattie. Mattie. Mattie—"

" _What?!_ " Canada exploded as the steering wheel iced over.

America grinned at his brother. "Are we there yet?"

Canada's violet eye twitched dangerously.

"Your blood pressure is rising, Matthew." Penny noted from the backseat as she looked down at her black suit in distaste.

"I wonder why." Canada groused. "And you should call me Canada at the meeting, remember?"

"The sarcasm in your first sentence has been noted." Penny stated. "And the information given in your second statement is in my databanks. However, we are not yet at the 'World Meeting', so I shall continue to call you Matthew for now."

Canada shifted in the driver's seat and drummed his fingers on the thawing steering wheel before he glanced quickly at America. "Are you sure—?"

"—that I want to go to the meeting?" America finished for his twin. "For the millionth time,  _yes_." He bounced in his seat. "We're discussing the rising ' _superhero_ ' population, Mattie."

"But we've already done that." Canada pointed out. "Plus, all the nations know where those powers actually come from. They and the governments have known for years."

"Well now it's been confirmed to the  _public_  too. People are using their powers to save people.  _Superhero leagues_ are becoming a thing, like an actual _thing_." America beamed. "It's a  _dream come tru_ e for me. I  _have_  to be there for this."

America had been excused from World Meetings for the past twenty years. Canada himself had started going back to meetings five years ago, but America's break had been a bit longer. To a human, that may seem long but to the nation it was still too short. He was back at a healthy weight. He had gone to therapy, both physical for his legs and mental for his depression, self-worth, and trust issues. His eyes were back to their natural blue.

And yet signs of Remnant's affect on his body and mind still clung to him, some as subtle as an abrasion and others as obvious as gaping wounds.

He had nightmares. He flipped people over his shoulder or shoved them away if they grabbed him from behind. When startled, flames or lightning would flicker at his fingertips. Sometimes, he would spiral down into grey numbness and curl up in bed until Canada or Penny dragged him out. It was usually Penny since Canada was often home nowadays. Though half the time, America was with him at his house, consoling his brother after Canada had his own nightmares.

In Canada's own words, Remnant really fucked them up.

But they would heal, as they had been healing, and maybe one day all their scars would be nothing more than a distant memory. Just like the scars across America's back were gone. The word 'SACRIFICE'— carved with malice as it mocked him for a fate he once had no hope to avoid— had vanished the day he accepted he was going to  _live_ , seven years after Vale's death.

America did not miss those scars. He still missed Vale's voice in his head, sometimes. His therapist had encouraged him to keep a journal and write letters to her, or just about his thoughts. It helped, a lot in fact. But sometimes, he still could not believe she was gone. Sometimes, he would speak in his mind and expect an answer. Those times were slowly becoming few and far between. So maybe he was finally ready to walk into the world's eye once more. And what better time to do it than when the world was considering making superheroes into a thing?

The car slowed to a stop and Canada put it into park. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and muttered a curse. "We're late. They've already started."

"Germany knows we're coming. He'll delay. England probably will too. You know how protective he can be." America smothered a fond grin.

"If the other nations have an issue with your tardiness, I shall dissuade them from their current mindset." Penny stated.

America stifled a chuckle. "Penny, I know you're my 'bodyguard' but you don't need to beat the nations up to show that, okay?"

"But I want to if they cause you distress." Penny said petulantly.

"You can scare them a little bit." America amended.

" _Al_." Canada said warningly.

America looked at him innocently. "What? I'm just trying to make Penny happy."

Canada muttered lowly in French, knowing full well that America could understand him. America stuck his tongue out at his brother and skipped past him and into the building that the World Meeting was being held in. His country had intentionally been chosen to host this meeting since the United States of America had been the first known 'source' of the 'superhero' gene. That was  _kind_  of the truth, in a way.

The first person to display Aura— other than the nations and those whose Aura they personally activated— had appeared nineteen years ago, and not because they knew of their power previously. Someone had been recording a birthday party when an American college student had jumped in front of a truck to save a little girl and emerged unscathed. It was quite a small event, considering what had happened later, but that moment had changed the world forever.

Since most did not know about Aura— yet— it was assumed that he had gained superpowers. Soon enough, more and more people around the world activated their powers without the need for the Aura chant of old. Now, there were more people that had powers— powers that governments around the world were dubbing 'Semblances'—than those that did not. The best guess for why and how was that it was due to their personifications possessing Aura. They did represent their people, after all, so their people may as well take after them.

_Superheroes are_   _ **real**_ _. That's so cool!_

America's excitement faltered as the door to the meeting room came into view. He could already hear the other nations inside. From the sound of it, France and England were arguing, Russia was kol-ing, the Italies were shrieking, and Germany was trying and failing to get order. A normal meeting then.

Yet despite that normalcy, America hesitated to go inside. What if he was not as healed as he thought? What if he froze in place, or sparked, or threw someone across the room? What if he zoned out during his speech and the other nations saw how broken he could be?

America felt Canada's cool hand on his arm and looked at his twin, seeking reassurance and feeling no shame that he needed it— though it had taken years for him to be able to ask for help without feeling guilty. Canada's own fears and worries danced in his violet eyes, but as he searched America's face for any sign they should leave, he instead saw reasons they should stay. Canada's entire posture relaxed and he gave America a soft smile.

"We're going to be fine."

Canada said it with such certainty that America felt his nerves slip away, replaced by his old excitement. He exhaled once, straightened his shoulders, and threw open the doors with a beaming and genuine grin.

"Sorry we're late, dudes. The Heroes have arrived!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. It's done. A whole series. Five books. I did it. I completed this series.
> 
> I'm so happy but kinda sad in a weird way?
> 
> It was a struggle to end this. Not because I didn't know what I wanted to do, but because I was not sure how much information I wanted to give. I did not want to do a "picture clipshow" ending where I showed flashes of the years going by for everyone (I personally dislike such endings), so I ultimately decided to show the important stuff about where certain characters ended up. I hope you liked it.
> 
> A special thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey. I had a lot of fun with this series and I probably never would have finished it without you. Thank you all so much!
> 
> Frequently Asked Questions and Unused Concepts will be in the comment section below.


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